On Sunday, I gave up and told the shelter where the pit bull I'd hit was staying that I was officially out of options, that they should let him go. I cried for him and asked Ellie to look out for him. I guess she was, but not in the way I'd thought. I got a call from the rescue group associated with the shelter this morning -- he's alive and in foster care with one of the shelter employees! He'll be starting treatment for his broken leg this week.

Sometimes you do get a miracle.