Before There Was You

My Inspirations

Before there was you
I was just another girl
Doing my own thing
Without a care in the world

Before there was you
Time didn’t mean a thing
I was off and running wild
I didn’t have any strings

Before there was you
I didn’t worry that much
The world’s problems weren’t close
And they weren’t so scary as such

Before there was you
I didn’t know true fear
I didn’t know real stress
I didn’t cry the deepest tears

Before there was you
I didn’t know how deprived I was
I didn’t know my life would change
I guess I didn’t know about true love

But then there you were
You turned my life upside down
With challenge after challenge
With many smiles and many frowns

But I wouldn’t trade one moment
And I will never say goodbye
I would give my own life for you
And you will never have to ask…

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A Soldier’s Angel – Part 1

Part 1 of a great story. Can’t wait for part 2.

dogtorbill

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The poor dog should have weighed about 55 or 60 pounds, but was just shy of 40 and looked pitifully up at me with a hesitant tail-tap against the table. I could see her ribs, her backbone, and the large mass on her breast. The only thing missing was Sara MacLaughlin singing in the background.

My client and her son had been driving through a “rough” part of Orlando, just off OBT where the “social workers” regularly walk in the evenings. They had just cleaned an office-building and were on the way home when they saw her dodging the early morning traffic.

“Be careful!” she shouted to her son as he darted out the car door to see if she wanted a ride, or if she would run away, or even try to bite when he approached. Apparently he didn’t even need to catch her – when she saw his…

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Rude (Part 2) – Why even try?

dogtorbill

bettysdog1   bettyanddog1

People like me can not even fathom Betty’s kind of poverty, or what leads someone there.  Culture? Role models? Lack of them? Financial ruin? Death? Mental Illness? Addiction?  Our modern-day lepers – It’s just so easy for us to look the other way as they stand amid the traffic, cross to the other side of the street as they approach, and flip someone a buck when we’re feeling generous.  Haven’t they made their own choices?  And if they’re an addict, it’s their own doing!  Why would I feel sorry for someone who poked holes in the crumpled can to burn a rock, put the lighter under the spoon, or climbs inside a bottle with my dollar?

It’s not so simple.  Seriously, do you honestly think that kid sitting next to you in your high school memory really choseto end up penniless and begging?  Many do have substance abuse issues.  I’ve learned so much about addiction…

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