The story of Grace, it began the day she was pushed into the meat trade. Born to die. To be boiled alive. A survivor of some the most extreme torture practices. Tied to a pole and beat. The breaking of her ribs. The belief that beating a dog alive tenderizes the meat.
Out of 17 dogs I rescued in Cambodia that day, she is one of three that made it. Her adopting mother drove all the way to Los Angeles from Chicago.
As I kissed her on her head and walked away, I became tears that crumbled off of me. Not because I wanted to keep her. But because I could see the dying. I could feel it in her eyes. I could see it on her flesh as she rubbed against me. She does not know yet, how I know - that this is just the beginning.
In life there are miracles. In life if we try and believe, we get second chances. While there is no happiness in what I do. No winning of the war. On days we cannot breathe, lost there upon the ground - we find miracles.
All my love to you Grace. That place in my heart that you bled into, I will forever remember. Thank you for trying to save me.