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“L.A. came “pre-named,” somewhat unoriginally, fit the city we both called home. When I first laid eyes on him, his tired body was blood soaked, and his ears ripped to pieces. I could see patches of white hair here and there, but it was impossible to determine his true color. During the drive home, every time I turned my head back to check on him, he’d give me a slow wag of the tail as our eyes met, as if to say, “You don’t need to worry... I'll be okay.” — Tia Torres
L.A. came “pre-named,” somewhat unoriginally, fit the city we both called home. When I first laid eyes on him, his tired body was blood soaked, and his ears ripped to pieces. I could see patches of white hair here and there, but it was impossible to determine his true color.
During the drive home, every time I turned my head back to check on him, he’d give me a slow wag of the tail as our eyes met, as if to say, “You don’t need to worry... I'll be okay.