I share this for the story of Atticus that may never be told.
Love of animals is a funny thing. As with humans, it requires defying nature and biology and relinquishing whom you love and adore in altruistic good of the other.
Cruelties honor no kindness. Hearts are shattered into a million pieces, to become worthless specks of diamonds on mankind’s dark canvas.
Death is the celebration, life the sentence. All that makes the between-time manageable is love.
I love Atticus.
Though he is not mine to keep.
Ain’t life’s cruelties a bitch?