Family Leaves Their Dog At A Parking Lot, He Spends Weeks Waiting For Them

Family Leaves Their Dog At A Parking Lot, He Spends Weeks Waiting For Them

A heartbreaking story comes from Southern California, where a tiny gray-and-white dog was spotted lying in a school parking lot next to the school’s shrubs.

She was waiting for her family who abandoned her to come back, refusing to leave that very spot, and hiding from anyone who wanted to help her.

Weeks went by, but no one claimed this dog, nor did anyone come back for her. She was all alone in this world, still not realizing that her previous owners are no longer her family…

Little Doggo Girl Was Inclined To Wait For Her Hoomans To Come Back

the dog sits on the street and waits

Despite the fact that no one came back for her for fifteen days, this little dog girl refused to budge from the parking lot shrubs. She was inclined to wait for as much as she needed to for her family to come back.

a dog sits by the sidewalk and waits for its owner

Many people tried to help her, sharing her photos online in hopes of finding her family, but no one ever claimed her. And, even when someone would try to approach her directly, she’d always hide, until one day, a woman named Suzette Hall came by.

Suzette Made Sure The Dog Got A Fresh Start

the dog is waiting for his family
Source: @logans_legacy29 Suzette is the founder of the Logan’s Legacy animal rescue in Irvine, California. When she came across the dog’s story, she had no doubts about helping her. Suzette drove herself to the school and searched for this doggo.“For 15 days, there she was in the morning, afternoon, and then the night. Neighbors tried to help her, but she was too scared. I know she believed if she stayed there, they would come back for her. Loyal little girl,” she wrote.As she was extremely fearful and shy, Suzette decided to set a humane trap with a hot dog in it. Even though this pup wasn’t exactly starved as she was fed by kibble, Suzette chose the right food to lure her in!When she finally got her, the doggo girl was frightened and panicky, but she eventually calmed down and fell asleep in Suzette’s car. She decided to name the dog “Scarlet”.the dog sits in the cage with a sad looksource: @logans_legacy29She drove her to Camino Pet Hospital, in Irvine, California, for a checkup. Scarlet got all the care she needed, and got cleared up for a new foster home. Soon after she was picked up by Suzette, this little dog got a foster family with a bunch of other siblings to play with.Little Scarlet Is Seeking A Furever Homecute shaggy dogSource: The Dodo Even though she’s now happy in a new foster home, Scarlet’s still seeking for her furever family. This lovable dog is easy-going, affectionate, and she pretty much gets along with everyone she meets.Adapting to a new family is definitely not going to be a problem for Scarlet, as she’s naturally a sweet doggo with great social skills!Suzette has one condition for the future family who decides to adopt Scarlet, though – it has to be someone who will never, ever leave her again!Scarlet being abandoned once again under some tree is simply inadmissible, and Suzette hopes she will finally learn what true love looks like. We wish for little Scarlet to find her pawfect home as soon as possible!

My MIL Threw Away All My Food from the Fridge – I Responded on Her Birthday

My MIL Threw Away All My Food from the Fridge – I Responded on Her Birthday

Living under the same roof with my mother-in-law had been challenging from the start. The cultural differences between us had always been a point of contention, but I never expected it to escalate to the point of her disposing of all my cooking supplies.

The food I cook, a vibrant representation of my South Asian heritage, means more to me than just sustenance; it’s a connection to my roots, my family, and my identity. However, the disdain from my mother-in-law towards my culture and the food I love became painfully evident the day I found my pantry emptied.

Kebabs roasting | Source: Pexels

Kebabs roasting | Source: Pexels

Having my mother-in-law move in was never going to be easy. The dynamics in our household shifted dramatically, but I had hoped for a semblance of respect and understanding. My husband, whose palate has embraced the diverse flavors of my cooking, has been caught in the middle of this cultural clash. His efforts to mediate have been commendable, yet the strain is visible, eroding the harmony we once shared.

A rice dish with various furnishings | Source: Pexels

A rice dish with various furnishings | Source: Pexels

The disparaging comments from my mother-in-law weren’t new to me. She had always made her feelings known, criticizing the way I eat with my hands as if it were something to be ashamed of, or the aromatic spices that filled our home, dismissing them as offensive. My husband’s attempts to defend me and educate her on the beauty and diversity of other cultures seemed futile.

Various spices | Source: Pexels

Various spices | Source: Pexels

Living with her constant judgments and disregard for my heritage was testing my patience, but I had chosen to remain silent, attributing her behavior to the stress of the quarantine.

The morning I discovered the empty pantry was a breaking point. The realization that she had taken it upon herself to throw away not just the food but a piece of my identity was shocking. Her justification, claiming it was for the sake of her son’s dietary preferences, was a blatant disregard for me, my culture, and even her son’s choices.

Jards in a pantry | Source: Pexels

Jards in a pantry | Source: Pexels

It was clear she viewed my heritage as inferior, something to be erased and replaced with what she considered “normal American food,” as if my being American wasn’t valid because of my ethnic background.

My frustration was compounded by the challenge of replenishing my supplies. The quarantine had already made grocery shopping a daunting task, and finding specific ingredients for my dishes was nearly impossible due to shortages. Returning home empty-handed to face her audacious questioning about dinner plans was the epitome of insult to injury.

A woman doing grocery shopping | Source: Pexels

A woman doing grocery shopping | Source: Pexels

In that moment, feeling belittled and disrespected in my own home, something shifted within me. I realized that remaining silent and attempting to keep the peace had only emboldened her disrespect. It was clear that direct confrontation or seeking my husband’s intervention again would not suffice. Her actions were a direct challenge to my identity and my place in this family, and I could not let it stand unaddressed.

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

As I stood there, facing her smug inquiry about dinner, a calm resolve settled over me. I knew that any response I gave now would only lead to more dismissals of my feelings and heritage. But I wasn’t going to play by her rules anymore. I wasn’t just going to find a way to cook with the limited ingredients I had or try to explain yet again why her actions were hurtful and unacceptable.

No, I had another plan.

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

With a clear objective in mind, I channeled all my frustration and determination into creating a masterful culinary strategy. My mother-in-law’s upcoming party, intended to be a grand social event, provided the perfect stage for my plan. She had envisioned this party as a showcase of her taste and sophistication, expecting a menu of classic American cuisine to appeal to her guests’ palates. However, I saw an opportunity to subtly introduce the very essence of my heritage that she had so vehemently rejected.

A dinner party | Source: Pexels

A dinner party | Source: Pexels

As I took over the kitchen to prepare the dishes for the party, I decided to infuse each “American” dish with a touch of Indian flair. The burgers were seasoned with garam masala, the potato salad hinted at cumin and coriander, and the apple pie was laced with cardamom. The transformation was subtle, enough to intrigue but not overwhelm, a culinary bridge between my world and hers.

A dish with potato salad | Source: Pexels

A dish with potato salad | Source: Pexels

The party was in full swing, with guests mingling and enjoying the ambiance. As they began to eat, their reactions were unanimous – surprise and delight at the unexpected flavors. One by one, they approached my mother-in-law with compliments, praising the innovative and delicious twist on traditional dishes. Each compliment was a testament to the universal language of good food, transcending cultural barriers and prejudices.

People enjoying a dinner party | Source: Pexels

People enjoying a dinner party | Source: Pexels

Caught off guard by the barrage of praise, my mother-in-law tasted the food with a critical eye, expecting to justify her disdain for Indian cuisine. However, the scene before her, a room full of guests genuinely enjoying the food, forced a change in perspective. The initial instinct to reject the unfamiliar flavors was overshadowed by the realization that her biases were unfounded. The food was not just accepted; it was celebrated.

People enjoying a meal | Source: Pexels

People enjoying a meal | Source: Pexels

This moment of revelation was pivotal for my mother-in-law. Witnessing the joy and satisfaction her friends experienced from the very cuisine she had scorned, she understood the futility of her resistance.

It dawned on her that her aversion to Indian food was merely a manifestation of her deeper biases against my cultural background. The reality that her son’s happiness was intricately linked to embracing his wife’s heritage finally broke through her stubborn prejudice.

People talking and laughing at a table full of food | Source: Pexels

People talking and laughing at a table full of food | Source: Pexels

The aftermath of the party marked a significant shift in our household dynamics. My mother-in-law’s acknowledgment of her misplaced animosity paved the way for a more harmonious coexistence. The tension that once permeated our interactions began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious mutual respect. Although this understanding did not erase all the challenges we faced, it was a crucial step towards reconciliation.

An upset older woman | Source: Pexels

An upset older woman | Source: Pexels

Despite the progress in our relationship, the arrangement of living together remained untenable for all involved. My mother-in-law, perhaps recognizing the need for space to allow our relationship to continue healing, decided to move to her daughter’s place. This decision was met with a collective sigh of relief, a necessary change that promised a fresh start for everyone.

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

In the end, the experience taught us all invaluable lessons about acceptance, respect, and the power of food as a unifying force. While the road to fully bridging our cultural divide would be long and fraught with challenges, the party served as a poignant reminder of the potential for change. It underscored the importance of looking beyond our prejudices and embracing the diversity that enriches our lives.

How would you have dealt with a mother-in-law like this? Let us know on Facebook!

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