She wandered into our back yard in July, weak, sick, and apparently homeless. I made ten copies of this picture and posted them in strategic places all over the neighborhood.
I called her Esperanza, a reflection of my high hopes that she would soon be reunited with her owners.
Several weeks went by, and it became apparent that no one was going to claim the waif. I scratched the name Esperanza and named her Ragu instead. I sometimes call her Rags.
The haunted look in Ragu's eyes is gone. No more bony ribs or rickety legs to tell the story of her journey before she found a sucker, namely me. Now she is fat and round, and full of vim and vigor. Not even the dogs will have much to do with her.
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