I don't reckon the sun's ever come up quite the same since the day it happened. I've been watching it for years now and to me it still don't look right somehow. Maybe it's just me thinking it, sending myself doolally after what I've done. But I swear every morning it creeps up and it's looking at me, all knowing like. And when you reckon the sun's acting like that over you there isn't a right lot you can do about it, beyond burying yourself away like a mole in the soil. That's what I've been doing more or less in the score or so years that have gone by since. But however tight I shut them curtains to stop that damn sun lighting me up, it still don't stop the inside of my head from pounding out the truth. No way it's ever going to stop harassing me neither, not unless the deaf and dumb lass was to happen right back on my doorstep and give me the chance to tell her that it wasn't never meant to work out this way. The deaf and dumb lass went by the name of Mitzi Barker. Her being deaf and dumb, she was the kind of lass you went up the lane with if you didn't want no-one shouting their gob off about it after. Funny but it's the small things I recall best about her, like the way her hair reeked of bonfires and how that little old checkered dress of hers rode right up her thigh with no help from me. After we'd finished our business we'd head over the trout farm and I'd hunker down and poach us up a couple of rainbows for our tea. That Mitzi Barker, she was thin as an ear of barley and I always figured a good nosh-up was the least I could do for her troubles. After the end of the story, the narrator and Mitzi: - not enough information - had coffee. - went to sleep. - ate trout together.
ate trout together.

The hardest thing was having to give up my three beautiful puppies due to my situation, the environment, and the people in that environment. I've mentioned this in another question. (Lilo, my best friend) (Cleveland, the biggest of the litter, he was chill like me) (Spike, the fluffiest, he was as fluffy as a cat, but clumsy to) What I did for these puppies was out of this world love. I never loved anything more in this world than these three right here. I raised them from birth to almost 11 weeks. While my mom wanted money, selling the others to anyone.(there was 11 in the litter) I cared for their safety and happiness and quality of life. They were my everything when I had nothing. I gave them away to a animal charity organization for free. My mom bitched at me for not getting money for them. At this time I was in severe depression, severe poverty, no chance of a job due to location, and wearing dirty clothes for months in her basement. I love animals to death, I love animals more than I love humans(but I'm no PETA activist). I loved these puppies, what I did was out of complete love and care for them and was seriously the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. It gets me very emotional thinking about this, I wish I was in a better position to give them a happy life. The black puppy, Lilo was my upmost favorite. She had the whine of a angel. She used it to always get my attention to give her more love. She always wanted to sleep with me every night and be with me every second of the day. Not a day passes that I hope they are getting love from a family in a great environment. I really want to get to see Lilo again. But of course the dog charity people changed their names. But she will also be Lilo to me♥️ After the end of the story he is probably what? - In a good living situation but he has no room for a dog due to space - In a bad situation with no money - not enough information - In a bad living situation with no room for a dog
In a bad situation with no money

*Question*
As part of my job, I regularly travel and over the last couple of years or so, I've been traveling pretty often. I've had the privilege to travel pretty widely across the US and abroad and I fully know how fortunate I am to have this opportunity. While sometimes exhausting, it's a perk for me to get to go to some pretty cool places, meet a variety of people, and see and do some amazing things. I've also broadened my personal travel, largely due to the overall comfort level I've developed with travel in general, thanks to my job. Like lots of other people, I post pics to social media here and there of my travels and I'm sure it can look quite glamorous at times. Being totally honest, sometimes it is. 🙂 I've been to some exceptional restaurants where I have enjoyed some spectacular meals. I've embraced the notion of trying all sorts of new foods and most of it has been delicious. I've picked up phrases and bits in all sorts of other languages (jack of all trades, master of none), learned things about various cultures, and best of all, I have had many incredible experiences and seen many iconic/historic/inspiring things. Like the Colosseum and other antiquities in Rome, the Parthenon and the Acropolis in Athens, the Eiffel Tower and so much more in Paris, the beaches where we stormed the shore on D-Day in WWII, the Empire State Building, the wonders of Yellowstone National Park, the beaches of Hawaii, Big Ben and Windsor Palace in England, the Liberty Bell, the Golden Gate Bridge, and Anne Frank's house in Amsterdam. As incredible as those experiences and sights have been, the process of getting to and from these places is anything but glamorous. Whoever said "getting there is half the fun" never had to fly smushed up in an economy seat for 9+ hours. For me, being there (or being back home) is 100% of the fun. Getting there and back is just a necessary evil until we invent a better form of travel. When did the author start taking more personal trips - not enough information - After they became more comfortable with it from traveling for work - Before getting a job that made it hard to travel - Before posting their pics to social media
**Answer**
After they became more comfortable with it from traveling for work