Beginning to suspect that the piece of shit who dumped Izzy in front of me on my run four years ago did so because she didn’t get along with a new dog. My job right now is to make sure she knows that Kirby isn’t a threat and that I’d throw myself in front of a car before allowing even a sliver of a notion of such a reprehensible act of cowardice and cruelty to enter my thoughts.

A side note: I run past the power station where I found her daily and I can see that scared little dog sniffing the wet grass, alone and abandoned; it infuriates me every time. It remains one of the great privileges of my life to have picked her up and given her a place in our home and heart.