In the morning I found you sleeping under the rosemary bush. In the afternoon you are hiding behind the mulberry tree, Tail wagging as you move between the sweet potatoes, cacti, and lemongrass. Waiting for me to throw your ducky so you can fetch it. Anapaula bathes you and brushes your coat. She untangles and snips off the knots in your fur. Together we towel you off and you shake yourself dry.  And you follow Anapaula into her car Off to your vet appointment. I heard you be

She receives them with a warm smile, making them feel light as the fireflies that rise in her November moonlighted sky. And as more arrive, she lets them all into her large but warm and cozy abode, filled with romantic light that always flows. Romantic light that sometimes likes to make it all the way out of the windows to complement and dance with the night, who gladly gives into his delight. November— no one can forget her, with her sleepy, aged caramel eyes that always see

Rent was free, so how can it not be? How may I portray this in such a way for those who might envy me? It was a home, yet not like any...