I was on my usual walk when a neighbor decided my rescue dogs didn’t belong on our street. At 75, I’ve learned to recognize moments that matter, and this was one of them. Pearl and Buddy don’t walk like other dogs—they roll along on tiny wheels, tails wagging with pure joy. Most people smile when they see them. That day, one neighbor reacted with disgust and told me to get rid of them. She didn’t just insult my dogs—she underestimated me.
After my husband passed, caring for animals others had abandoned gave my life purpose again. Pearl and Buddy, both disabled, brought joy and meaning back into my days. Hearing someone call them “disgusting” hurt deeply, but instead of arguing, I stayed calm. I soon learned this neighbor had a pattern of filing complaints and intimidating others. Standing my ground, I realized, wasn’t just for me.
