My daughter called from her car, nearly in tears. "There's a little black dog running in the street and there's a lot of traffic! It's going to get hit! Mom, PLEASE!" I grabbed a leash and headed out to the area I knew was one in which a lot of dogs are used for not-so-good purposes. I pulled into the gas station and spotted the pup nosing around the Dumpster. It was a fenced waste collector, and she had run into the enclosure. I walked in and closed the door to the Dumpsters, closing us both inside. She was cowering in the corner, shaking; I approached slowly, speaking to her in a soft voice. Eventually I was able to slip the leash around her neck and I pulled her, slowly, outside. We sat on the grass, and I told her how pretty she was. A woman from the convenience store brought out a sandwich, which she swallowed nearly whole, grabbing some of the Styrofoam plate as well. At the house she ran to the back of my fenced yard and sat shivering. My daughter and I named her Lily because she was so sweet. She looked pregnant, so I made an appointment with my veterinarian and took her in for a checkup. The vet said she was probably around 10 months old, and said she'd already had puppies. She thought Lily had a "false pregnancy" from having male dogs around her! Poor little girl! She was spayed, given her shots and taken home. She shows signs of having been abused, but we will never know the extent. She sometimes falls to the ground in a panic if she smells or sees something that is scary to her. The fear can be a person she doesn't know, a dog, a room, two hands going toward her head for a hug. But most times she is a happy, loving girl that is approaching her fourth year. I love her so much and appreciate her every night as the temperature plunges and she burrows under the covers and sleeps at my feet!