Please Wake Me

I got up early this morning and headed straight for the shower. As I stood there with the water falling over me my mind suddenly turned to New Orleans and for a moment I thought I must've been recalling a bad dream I'd just had. Those thoughts quickly passed and I could feel this pang develop in the pit of my stomach, once again. I don't think any of us who aren't directly involved with the nightmare which is New Orleans can begin to understand what they're living and dying through. I know I can't. The stories are so heartbreaking.

I was watching Oprah yesterday and they showed a 25-year-old man hugging his 14-year-old dog and nuzzling its face. He would soon have to board a bus for some faraway place and leave his beloved companion, aged and scared to fend for itself and to say goodbye forever. I had tears in my eyes watching this as other dogs ran in and out of camera view having already been left to themselves. Finally, the producer of the segment interrupted the scene and told the man that he would take his dog for him and two other dogs he'd found and care for them until they could be reunited. How sad is that? I feel guilty even mentioning pets when there are hundreds if not thousands of children who have been separated from parents possibly forever.

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