Lost and Found

Rosebud, a painting I made for a friend back in ’99.

Two and a half days of single parenting feels like more than two and a half days. It’s mostly a-okay, but after bedtime routine I’m spent. Zero energy for writing.

Tonight, on our way home in the rain, I noticed a lost dog trying to cross the busy street. A sweet, chubby Pug. I scooped her up and plopped her onto the front seat. It seemed like she would’ve been happy enough to come home with us, but her tag had an address, so we found her house and delivered her back to her family.

(Post 314 of 365)


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