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Hunger

He’s thin now, down to seventeen pounds. In the prowess of his youth, he weighed almost twenty-four pounds, not big, but he was born small. He’s a decade old now and when he lopes through the backyards in suburban Boston, it looks to those who see him from their decks and cars like his legs dangle from his rising and falling torso, the pads of his feet landing with just enough coordination to propel him forward from garbage site to garbage site.  When he goes to ground in the nearby woods at sunrise, he sees the contours of his ribcage below his thinning pelt. He no longer has the will or stamina to challenge a domestic dog for feeding rights …
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