Whoever you are, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart for leaving your overweight young Blue Tick Coon Hound running down the highway after you threw her out.
Because you were so heartless, she is now mine forever! Apparently, you kept her caged a lot, and she delivered a litter for you, if not more than that, but at least she had no more injury from dumping than a skinned hip, most likely from when you threw her out of the truck. No broken bones, lucky for her! Merely road rash! Lol!
The hair is growing back! Not that you care, but that is just to inform you of her status. As cold bloodedly as I can report to you.
The kindly people that grabbed her took her to the local vet, who has me on her hound rescue list.
I left my law office, drove to the clinic to see her, and said I wanted what you, sir or madam, had no further care or use for.
The vet said she was 3 years old, more or less. What, exactly, did you DO with her for that time? Last night, she panted, was subdued, picked out the place in my yard that most resembled a pen. Did you ever allow this hound some room to run? Today, she greeted my return from work with a song as beautiful as any Mozart French Horn sonata.
Did the fact that when she came to you and leaned hard on your shins, tilting her beautiful hound face upwards to make eye contact with you, make you angry?
Well, I happen to thrive on the love a hound gives me.
Did you give her a name? Bitch in the cage?
She is now and forever Blue Belle.