So today I'm at work and my mom calls in the middle of the afternoon.
Weird.
She knows that I'm at work till a certain time and that I can't answer my phone.
Yet, she calls.
So I text her and ask if everything's okay.
And I don't get a response.
And I'm thinking someone has died for sure.
Someone is in the hospital or dead or something.
So I'm nearly panicking when she texts me back.
Jake has cancer.
My first thought: Ahh (relief), just the dogs.
My second thought: Wait, Jake has cancer?
My mom texts me again, saying that the dogs went to the vet yesterday and found out Jake has like a month left to live, and Joey's been on the decline for a while.
And then I cried.  It's so dumb, but I cried.
So I'm at work, sitting in the bathroom, crying.
Because my dogs are dying.
Like, what?
It sounds so dumb to me.  Like, they're just dogs.
But even as I write this it's hard not to get emotional.
Because I feel like my family member just found out that he has a month to live.
And I'm suddenly realizing that my dogs, who I've had since I was in second grade, are going to die soon.
And I love my dogs.
We knew that Joey was going to die soon, he's been sick for a long time and he's like 14 years old.  But not Jake.  Jake has never stopped being spunky and annoying since we brought him home.  He's 12, but still acts like a puppy.
And it's so dumb but the death of my pets feels consistent with the death of a friend.
It sounds so bizarre to me, but that's how it feels.
I remember sitting on my steps in my first house in Jersey when I was eight years old and telling Joey that he was my best friend.  I think every kid does that.
I grew up with them.  It's weird to think about.
So that's where my head is.
My poor puppies.  I don't know if I'll ever see them again.