Columbia needs to pitch in, save the Humane Society

It was around this time last year that I came home to find a gray cat, all skin and bones, standing near a tree in the yard in the freezing rain. I called out to it and it came up to me slowly, meowing loudly. I wasn’t about to turn the poor thing away, not when I could see its ribs from where I stood. I opened the garage door and shooed it inside and brought it food and water. I remember she jumped onto my lap and began purring loudly after she had her fill.