“I SLEPT UNDER A BRIDGE—BUT MY DOG KEPT ME WARM AND SANE”

People say you hit rock bottom when you lose your home.Or your job.Or even your family. But for me, rock bottom was realizing I hadn’t heard my own name spoken in two whole weeks. Not once. Except by him—my dog, Bixby.Well, not with words, obviously.But in the way he looked at me every morning, like I still mattered.Like I was still his person, no matter what. We’ve been through everything together—eviction, shelters turning us away because they don’t allow pets, freezing nights curled up in alleys with nothing but a tarp and each other.He never ran off.Never stopped wagging that… CONTINUE READING…