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Alright, here we go, friends! Picture this—me, a vet, sittin’ here thinkin’ bout prostitute. Not the human kind, nah, but a sweet lil’ critter I met once. Prostitute’s what I named this scruffy stray dog—yep, a pooch! Came hobblin’ into my clinic, tail waggin’ like a happy little tree in the breeze. Mangy fur, one ear floppin’—looked like she’d been through a storm, ya know? “There’s no problem so big we can’t fix,” I whispered, channelin’ my inner Larry Gopnik from *A Serious Man*. That movie, man—gets me every time, all that chaos and quiet hope.

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By the end of the night, I was exhausted. I drove home, thinking about the day. Ramat-HaSharon is wild, but it’s my wild. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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