This is the quiet distinction that splits the world of those who speak for the voiceless.
That night, back in the alley, Rascal was not debating philosophy. He was shivering, his doll clutched between his paws. A welfare volunteer had left him a bowl of kibble and a flea treatment. A rights activist had left a note on a nearby wall: "No creature should own another. Boycott all animal use." This is the quiet distinction that splits the