when my heart breaks I pet one of my adopted, rescued furry kids and I feel a bit better…or I share these orphans on facebook hoping others share…or adopt…
that is my medicine…to try to make a dent in this world of animals … they all need to be acknowledged.
I counted up all of the babies I have adopted over the years…so I know I have pulled my weight as best I could…and most were mutts or strays…and the very happiest moments of my life have included my adopted “kids”… and my real one…and playing with paperdolls who are more congenial than real people? LOL! 😉
I love animals…much kinder than some people in my life to whom I am related! I kid you not! and I feel as homeless and unappreciated as they (the animals) are…have felt that way all of my life…I did have great parents and a great kid…that’s about it! I don’t advertise that all the time but it is the absolute truth.
thanks for these comments …
Valerie Parent: “Heart the fur babies!”
Sarah MC: “my heart is broken”
Roberta Limoli Barufaldi: “still plan on purchasing your two books!”
Tammy Marshall: “Another great article, Susie Sexton! You can tell when someone puts their heart and soul in their craft.”
Paul Hoofard: “I love your passion!”
Roy Sexton: “So, I’m going to lunch with Jan and our colleague Mike, and I see a Shih Tzu or something (no tags, but a collar) running about the busy traffic on Middlebelt. We lure the dog into a yard with a rattle-y container of gum, and the people who live in the house say, ‘We saw him running around.’ Really? And you didn’t do anything? They give us some twine which we fashion into a leash. I wander about this neighborhood while Jan and Mike go to the drugstore to get a real leash (which of course they don’t carry – my mom says, ‘Always have a leash in your car.’ I will now). As I wander around using this dog like a divining rod to see if he will lead me to his home (he didn’t – he was kind of a cute dingbat), up rolls from within the neighborhood a Grand Marquis painted an ugly orange red and on tires the size of small boulders. The gentleman driving the car, not saying ‘thank you,’ grumbles, ‘My dog.’ I say, ‘What’s his name?’ Surly reply, ‘Bear.’ (Really, a Shih Tzu named ‘Bear’?) The dog did reply to the name, at which time the man got out of the car, lifted the dog roughly by the collar, smacked it on its side, and said, ‘We’re goin’ home.’ So, who wants to kidnap a Shih Tzu with me? Yes, we drove back through the neighborhood to confirm that he and ‘Bear’ do live there.”