Thursday, May 19, 2016

Mr. Lucky.

When I first met Ricky, he was 5 ½ weeks old, living outside, had been sprayed by a skunk, and was so filthy I thought the color of his fur was brown.

Now he lives by the beach, sleeps on a memory foam mattress and has the entire Mets infield scratching his back.

He was dealt a bad hand, but he sure did play his cards right.

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