Dear Honey Bea,

Honey-Bea

You ran into my arms three weeks ago tonight. I waited for someone to claim you but no one came, so I carried you home as you clung to me like a wet sock. I didn’t realize how neglected you were until I put you down and saw your matted hair, blind eye, infected skin and nails that were four times longer than they should have been. You seemed so relieved when I fed you, bathed you and freed your little feet from the matted fur that had bound them. You are the sweetest little dog and although you don’t know basic commands like “sit” or “stay,” you can dance with complete abandon and love like there’s no tomorrow. Your ability to trust is a mystery and your spirit inspires. I don’t know how you got into the state you were in and why you came to me with no struggle, but I do know that you are here to stay.


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