His Name was Jonas

I went home the other day and I was so excited because I hadn't been home in over two weeks (the second longest amount of time I've ever been away from home). I was happy to see my mom and my dad and my dog, and anyone else who I would've by chance seen. 

When I got home my mom and Rivers (my dog) were there just hanging out and I said, "Hi, mom."

I haven't hugged my mom in awhile. 

Shame on me.

She hugged me. I almost cried. I don't know why. 

It was literally the happiest I have ever been to see my mom. November 8th, 2008.

Then she said, "Oh, you never got to see Lacy's (my sister) puppy, did you?"

I said, "No."

She then proceeded to ruin my joy by telling me how cute it was and how it was only 2 months old... "The other night Lacy said he didn't want to play and was just acting different. She said that her and Adam (my brother in law) went to bed and the puppy just slept under their bed and cried all night, and Lacy kept asking if they should do anything, and Adam would say, he's probably just sick and he'll be fine tomorrow." 

I didn't like this story. I felt bad for the puppy. No puppy should just cry all night.

Then my mom said, "Lacy and Adam got up in the morning, and the puppy had crawled out from underneath their bed and went and laid down and died in the living room."

Then I cried.

I hate that these blogs are probably always going to be way too personal, and sad sappy stuff like this. But this is real.

For a decent amount of time now, I've had just bizarre emotions. And my mom's story just brought them all out at once. I haven't cried in front of anyone in years. Until last Saturday.