Birds of a Feather, Don’t Always Know What the Hell They’re Doing!

He snuck in through the doggie door in the middle of the day. I didn’t hear him until he smacked, head first, into a window. Poor little thing must be cold, now he is warm, but trapped, and a bit dizzy. He is reluctant to accept any help. Wobbly from the window head bashing, he … Continue reading Birds of a Feather, Don’t Always Know What the Hell They’re Doing!

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Beauty and Bruises

  If you can no longer handle my truth If you can no longer handle my voice If you can longer handle my strength If you can no longer handle my beauty If you can no longer handle my bruises You no longer get to be in in my tribe