So there's this homeless man down at the corner near my office with this dog. They're out there everyday. They pretty much look just like this. And while I have little-possibly zero-sympathy for the man (I'm working on compassion for people, ok?), looking at that poor dog tethered to that homeless man makes me want to cry. While the man has more than likely made some very bad choices, been addicted to every substance under the sun, and clearly given up the will to better himself, that precious puppy has to sit there and suffer right along with him. For what?! I mean, where did he even get that dog? And why hasn't someone from the Houston SPCA seen him and rescued it? And doesn't it make you mad that he probably doesn't give a lick about that dog but knows that people like me will give him money just because they feel bad for the dog? Except I won't give him money. Because I don't really want to help the homeless man. I'm no blood-throwing PETA lover by any means, but I just want to help the dog.
So tomorrow I think I will hand that man two baggies of dog food from my car window as I pass by.
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