Months ago I posted something about how this dog that came up to my house all muddy and starving, in dark old winter, and I took it to the SPCA thinking the owner would claim her. She was ribs-showing scrawny with kennel cough and worms. At the same time, Mom was slipping off the planet and my sister was in a chemo haze. Everything was so sad -- Dad fell and was crabby and I had to tend to everyone. All hell was breaking loose!
And then this dog came to our porch on January 2nd which is why I call her 2. Spelled Tue. She was my hope forward, toward better days. . .
Today -- here is the ever-active Tue in full liquid motion mode, which is probably why she ended up on my porch. She's alive and healthy and I love it.