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They're putting the dog to sleep on Thursday.

She's old and she can't get up the front steps and she isn't eating her food anymore and her cysts just keep multiplying and getting bigger and she whines at night and she whines during the day and she can't walk right and she sometimes falls over and she can't really sit either and her eyes are kinda foggy and she seems like she hurts all the time.
It's not fair to keep her in such pain, and I know that.

But it's still upsetting.

Chelsea's been around for.. at least eight years, in our family. I can't remember exactly how old I was when I got her, but I know it was before I was in high school. And I'm ending my second year of college now. She was always a pretty good dog, but awful stubborn when she realized we would treat her even if she was bad. So it's kinda... well, I dunno. I'm not good with these feelings things.

It's hitting mom harder than it hits me, I know it is.

I only told one person, you know, at least directly. I doubt anyone'll read this though, so it's effectively one person. He was pretty sweet about making me feel better. I should thank him.