Lost dog

A lost dog wandered into our front yard a few evenings ago as Mateo and I were on the driveway jumping rope. As we waited for the owner to retrieve the pup, Mateo said, “If I were President, I’d build a hotel with a special room just for dogs. But I can’t be President, because I wasn’t born in the United States.” Then, without another word, he flipped his rope over his head, and resumed jumping. Another day in the life of an adoptive family with kids born in Guatemala.

I’m also sharing this article from the Moscow Times, about Paralympians adopted from orphanages in Russia and Ukraine, and the athletes’ reflections on how adoption changed the trajectory of their lives. Forgotten, often, in the debate over international adoption, is the reality of what “not being adopted” can mean–a childhood lived in an orphanage, followed by a young adulthood navigated on one’s own. ~

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