I found a dog dead by the lavenderon 9th Street. Its joints were bent at weird angles like a pickup had run over it, and I admit I kept walking, left it to decay by the trash cans, dripping bleach and abandonment. Are you angry? There is no other honest way to say it. I passed it again on my way to work and someone kinderthan me had covered its body with a stained towel. A cardboard sign read r...