a new one
The Warm Bond Between Leo and Buddy Leo was a quiet boy of eight, with eyes as soft as rain-wet grass. His family had just moved to a small town, and he hadn’t made any friends yet. Every afternoon, he’d sit on the porch of their new house, watching kids ride bikes or chase butterflies in the field across the street, his small hands twisting the hem of his shirt. He felt like an outsider, adrift in a world that already had its own stories—stories he wasn’t part of. > It was a chilly autumn afternoon when he first saw the dog. Leo was walking to the corner store to buy milk for his mom, his jacket zipped up to his chin. The dog was huddled behind a pile of fallen leaves, shivering. It was a small mixed breed, with a scruffy coat of brown and white, and one ear that flopped over while
- Writer
