We lost a great comedian, a terrifying disease is running rampant in West Africa, and a journalist has been brutally murdered by Islamic extremists as Ferguson, Missouri continues to erupt in the aftermath of a racially-motivated killing of an unarmed young man.
On a personal front, my heart still sinks a little every time I become aware of the emptiness that was once occupied by Lamar, my circle-wagging, shrill-barking, velvety little man of possibly Anatolian ancestry. How is it possible for the last of my New Mexico Brown Dogs to be gone?
Times like this, I'm not really sure how to stay hopeful and engaged, and not succumb to apathy. Except for one thing: there is always another dog to foster.
I'm not saying that my relationship to dog fostering is a prime example of psychological health and balance. In fact, I'll freely admit that foster dogs are to me as coffee, cigarettes, binge drinking and crack cocaine are to other people.
When times are tough, reach for the foster dog and worry about the consequences later.
Which is what I did. This is Daria!
Daria is as wiggly, affectionate, cuddly, and loving as you'd expect from an addiction-satisfying controlled-substance-like foster dog.
She is also deaf, and was very worried in the shelter. Her serious, knit-browed profile images have not been getting much adopter attention.
Let's spif up that profile of yours, girlfriend! Let's see if we can get you to smile.