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An Appling County pharmacist has been charged with fraud, and unlawful distribution of drugs.

Ray Ashley Dixon, 41, of Baxley, is charged with Conspiracy with...

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My hardworking mother wasn’t always the most logical person around, but she had a soft heart for strays—cats, dogs, children, adults, no matter. We never knew from day to day how many would be seated around our supper table, but it didn’t really matter. If Aunt Susan and Uncle John showed up right at supper time, it was fine. Mama could always manage to feed one more, and none of us every left the table hungry.

I’ve no idea how many animals we adopted over the years. A stray tabby kitten would mysteriously show up on our porch, and Mama would order us, “Don’t feed that cat. Maybe it’ll go home.” Later we’d catch her out there crumbling up a biscuit in a bowl of milk. She’d be petting the kitten as it lapped up the soggy mess.

“I couldn’t go to bed for thinking about that hungry kitten,” she’d laugh sheepishly. “One more cat won’t matter much.”

Dogs came our way in the same manner. We children didn’t object. The more animals we had, the better, but none were allowed in the house. Not while I was growing up. In her later years, Mama allowed Snoopy, a black tomcat, in the house, even fed him on the bench beside her. If Daddy objected, he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t object to the string of children who sat at our table either. Many of them were children Mama...

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