As the relentless reports of tragedy continue to flood in, I am finding myself more and more angered to see dogs remaining in the sewage of Katrina. I just got done reading this Ftrain post on Snowball, a white terrier ripped from his little owner’s arms who then vomitted in agony because his best friend wouldn’t be joining him in safety.
As I own a little white terrier, you can imagine this hits home for me.
Further, I shit you not, I have laid awake nights thinking of how to get Quincy to safety, even in a zombie apocolypse (this happens quite a bit since I’ve been reading the latest chapters in Monster Planet). This scenario mostly involves bicycles and/or motorcycles for light mobile transport (to avoid all of the abandoned cars) and a baby sling. The dog stays with me, dammit.
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