Bessie has lived her entire life in fear.
Well, maybe that’s not entirely correct, but she’s at least lived her life just on the edge of fear. She can go from relaxed and happy to tense and terrified in a split second. She’s not just scared of people who might try to hurt her. She’s even scared of the one person in the world who’s fed her and taken care of her for two and a half years — me.
I wrote about Bessie’s sister, Molly, last week. You can read that story if you’d like, because most of it applied to Bessie, too.

Why do presidents and candidates bother to release tax returns?
Is it persistence or stubbornness to keep chasing uncertain outcomes?
Christmas looks different now, but I still see joy with eyes of a child
I kinda like Rand Paul, but I don’t support anybody as ruler-in-chief
What’s the use of love if the one who you love doesn’t need you?
Mom finds 28 reasons to put phone down, pay more attention to sons
Major parties compete to see who can tell the biggest lie about jobs
In praise of the weirdos who most people don’t really seem to like