When we moved into the duplex, the lease said “no aggressive breeds,” but there was no mention of pit bulls specifically. Our dog, Nova, was barely a year old. Goofy, gentle, scared of the vacuum. She’d never so much as growled at anyone. But she had that blocky head. That deep chest. That look people seem to fear before they ever give her a chance. My daughter Mira didn’t care. Nova was her best friend from day one. Tea parties, dress-up, naps on the porch—those two were inseparable. Mira taught her hand signs, even how to ring a bell when…
Author: World Wide
People know me as the fireman down the block. The guy who shovels elderly neighbors’ sidewalks in winter and lets kids climb all over the fire truck at the community fair. But no one ever sees the mess behind my front door. Except maybe Luna. She’s been with me since I found her curled up behind the station dumpster during a rainstorm, ribs showing, whole body shaking. They said she was a pit mix, and “probably trouble.” But all she’s ever done is love too hard. We passed the training. She got her license as an emotional support dog after…
In a powerful, resurfaced clip that has raised eyebrows as the Trump Administration gets to work dismantling the Biden Administration’s disasters, now-National Security Advisor Mike Waltz demolished former Secretary of State John Kerry in a House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee hearing, calling out the hypocritical leftist and climate activist Kerry after he lied under oath about his travel on and ownership of private jets. For context, John Kerry has a longstanding history with the climate movement in the US, and the left-wing politician previously held the office of Secretary of the Office of the Special Presidential Envoy for Climate under President…
I told him not to wander too far. We were walking back from the library, and I was digging through my bag for our bus card when I turned around and saw him—my 6-year-old—kneeling beside a man slumped against the wall, holding out his sandwich in both hands. At first, I panicked. I rushed toward them, blurting, “I’m so sorry!” like my kid had done something wrong. But the man looked up at me and smiled. “It’s okay,” he said. “I was just telling your boy thank you.” My son turned to me and said, “He looks like Grandpa. Can…
We rescued Tank six months after the divorce. He’d been labeled “unadoptable” at the shelter—too big, too strong, “intimidating presence.” But I saw the way he flinched when someone raised their voice. The way he sat down, gently, when my daughter, Leila, peeked at him through the kennel door. He didn’t bark. He just waited. I brought him home against everyone’s advice. Leila was five and hadn’t slept through the night since her dad left. The nightmares, the bedwetting, the 3 a.m. sobbing fits—it broke me. Therapists tried. I tried. Nothing stuck. Then one night, she crawled onto the couch…
It is not unexpected that four Democratic campaign staffers in Connecticut, a deep blue state that frequently elects Democrats, were found to have misused absentee ballots. Although the incident happened in 2019, they were apprehended, detained, and charged during the summer of 2024. In a news statement issued on June 11, the Division of Criminal Justice of the State of Connecticut made this announcement. The news announcement started, “Today, Chief State’s Attorney Patrick J. Griffin announced that four campaign workers who participated in the 2019 Bridgeport Democratic mayoral primary have been charged with crimes related to the misuse of absentee…
People always think the vest is cute. They see Juno in her bright blue service jacket, pawing door buttons or carrying a grocery bag, and they smile. Take photos. Say things like, “She’s smarter than most people I know!” They don’t see the other side. Like that afternoon last week. I was walking home from the park—took the long way like an idiot because the breeze felt good and I wanted to feel normal for once. Halfway up the hill, my legs gave out. It wasn’t dramatic. No screaming or collapsing. Just this sudden, dead weight in my thighs and…
When we adopted Blu, the woman at the shelter gave us a long look and said, “You sure about this? He’s a pit.” I nodded. Because I wasn’t looking for a status dog. I was looking for someone to protect my daughter in a world that never really felt safe. Luna was three when we brought Blu home. Within days, she was brushing his fur with her doll comb, whispering secrets into his ear, and falling asleep with her fingers curled in his. Some parents gasped when they saw them together. A few even pulled their kids away from the…
I was unaware of how lonely she had become. Not at all. I called her once a week after Dad’s death. I went when I could. I sent her the strange jams she like from the farmer’s market, knitted socks, and puzzles. That seemed plenty to me. She sounded fine, so I persuaded myself she was doing fine. Then, when I returned home for the weekend, I noticed her sitting on the porch with a dog that I didn’t recognize—a large, ungainly St. Bernard that was drooling and fluffy. Her expression was one of calm, perhaps, and she had one…
