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I made it my duty to always carry pieces of stale bread which I would distribute daily amongst the countless stray dogs according to a priority system: Pregnant or lactating mothers first, followed by the pups, the old, the weak-looking, and finally, the rest of them. Some of them were in such bad shape that every day, I would question the point of it all. Was I just prolonging their suffering by another day? Was it all futile? I’ll never know, but what I do know is that in that moment and for that dog, it made a difference. | ||
-Yannick |