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I’d had a rough day. Actually, it had been a rough year.
After picking up my two-year-old from preschool, I drove into our driveway and went to the mailbox. I pulled out a few bills, some junk, and a small envelope addressed by hand—my sister’s hand. I recognized the handwriting...
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It was the biggest dog I had ever seen. A German shepherd with a strong sense of territorialism and no love for strangers, even little ones.
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No one told me. Or maybe they did and I just didn’t understand. How could a baby’s cry be so piercing? It could pierce the silence, pierce my thoughts, and pierce my heart.
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