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They think I am called "rescue dog" because they brought me home, saved me from a dark place of rust and concrete, a room that held no smells but urine and anger and fear. They do not know that when I dream, I am one hundred feet tall. I am brave and swift and fierce, and I chase away their sadness. I free all the small, scared things they cage up in the dark places inside them. I walk them out of their anger and fear and I bring them home. And That is why I am called "rescue dog."
Short story written by Peter Chiykowski
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