I need this more than I care to admit. Trying to change it up, I run up the stairs from the subway, try to clear my head from the stench of the crazy woman on my train. I head to the bodega, to the man who will say "Good morning, Beautiful" because perhaps that small kindness will redeem me, make me feel whole enough to face the rest of my day.

Parked outside the tiendita is a huge pit bull. He is no house pet, he is un-neutered and his ears are cropped like I have seen the Russians do for illegal dog fighting down in Little Odessa. Many would fear him, and he is fearsome, a solid 100 pounds of muscle. I look at him and he does not stare me down, so reach my hand out to his enormous head. He accepts my pets impassively while I praise him lavishly.

Out of the store with my croissant and coffee and I look at the pit bull again, but this time, he looks back and starts to wag his tail. I pet him again, rub the short fur on his head, and then he breaks, shows his sweetness, leans his whole body against my leg, to soak up affection. I tell him how beautiful he is, and he is beautiful, stregnth and tenderness there by my side, and there is my redemption and there is the start of my day.