2/12/16
Just when we thought we were out of luck, Lacey came into our lives. But her appearance didn’t portend possibility. Instead her skin was mottled, her fur blotched, her tiny sharp puppy teeth too eager to draw blood from the hands that offered to feed and contain her.
“She needs some manners,” the veterinarian instructed. She needs more than that, I sighed to myself. We were on the Emoth nest path, our children seeking their own fortunes, however unsuccessfully it seemed at the time. Our formerly twice rescued dog, Sunday, put to sleep as they say. We has carved out a post-millennial pathway for ourselves. Now interrupted by complications , circumstances–and canines.