The Divide Between Animals & Humankind (or: Where Myth Meets Truth) — Guest Post by Ann Bennett

Ann Bennett is out to give science a good (and fun!) name at Science Ladybug. At So Much To Choose From, she blogs about writing, her thoughts & experiences, and so much more. Welcome, Ann!

Sometimes, late in the evening, I can hear my father’s voice. Playfully he spoke in rhymes and shared beloved stories. The ones I loved best were stories from his memory which had been passed down through generations.

This is one of my favorites.

The Story of Little Leo (and How He Adopted Us) — Guest Post by Susan Brody @unpubYA

It all started when cancer took our beloved Murphy from us in February. He wasn't quite 11 years old.

Murphy & me

We'd had three months of warning that this was coming. In November, he had collapsed. I was the only one home. I scooped him up and drove like a lunatic to the vet. The vet did a sonogram and showed me the unmistakable outline of the large tumor on his spleen. He could probably save him this time, the vet told me, but it would only be a matter of weeks or months until the tumor ruptured and no one would be able to save him. Every day from here on in would be a gift.

The vet did save him that time, and then performed the same miracle once again in December. But in January Murphy began steadily losing weight and becoming weaker, despite his six daily medications. When he collapsed again on February 6th, we knew it was the end. Despite all the time we'd had to prepare, once he was gone no one in my family could imagine what we would do without him.

But we still had another dog at home that we had to take care of: 8-year-old Finney, our younger Goldendoodle, who from the age of 8 weeks had never known life without Murphy. And, unlike us, he didn't understand what had happened.

Finney (left) and Murphy

#AtoZChallenge Reflections on the #Dog Rescue Series

It’s been 12 days since the last A2Z post went up, and I’m still in full-out PTA2Z (aka post-traumatic A2Z disorder). Even the sporadic like on FB feels like lifting a bag of cement. Twelve days and the house is still a mess. The dogs still need baths. We still haven't returned to our regular treks-and-hikes schedule. Twelve days, and my brain still feels fried. Twelve freakin' days and I still haven't finished replying to comments!!!!

Seeing as this happens every single year, the question’s just begging to be asked: Was it worth it?