I was out in the garage today, sorting through boxes and letting my mind dance its little daydreams, and I couldn't help but smile. Because, you see, people may think we're crazy for salvaging things on big trash day, recycling and reusing containers like the world will end tomorrow, taking in sick, incontinent dogs, and all the other things we do that no one else would, but I find so much joy in living life with everyone's leftovers. And so, as you may have noticed, my blog has a new name. Not that I use it much to make it really matter, but I felt it time for a change.
And so here I sit with everybody's leftovers, only they aren't leftovers to my husband and I. Because in truth, we're kind of leftovers. We've been driven out, abandoned, ignored, and rejected, too. And so we welcome people, animals, and things into our lives that are unwanted and unloved, because we know all too well that just because someone or something isn't wanted, doesn't mean it doesn't have worth. They'll always have a home with us. A home where they are wanted. A home where they matter. And a home where they are loved.
Our Beagle/Basset mix, Junior, on the day I brought him home - the day he was scheduled to be euthanized because no one wanted a dog his age. He's been with us two and a half years now and is still going strong.