I knew this was coming. But I'm still sad. I still cried. For two hours, literally. This isn't my first dog to put down, but this dog, my dog- has been more meaningful to me than any I've had before. You see, I first got her when we found her on the side of the road. She was emaciated, looked like she was already dead. She was even quasi-rotting, there was a black rotten fungal infection in her ear. She had no collar, no tags, nothing. We took her in. We saved her. At that time, I was still struggling with myself. With becoming so sick that I couldn't go to school. With suicidal thoughts. With self harm. With who I was. And my dog, she became something to anchor me. I wasn't interacting with people much, I was isolated, I was abused, I was sick, I was so close to the end, and so was she. And helping her, it gave me purpose. Made me feel like my life had some value. She is very important to me. Which is why her name also became very important to me. See, my parents were the one to name her and they didn't know at the time what the name was that I chose for myself. They didn't know that I was me. They gave her my name. The one I'd taken for myself prior. My dog and I? We shared a name. So watching her get better, was like watching me get better. She could do it? I could do it. And she became a source of strength for me. It was like, a spiritual connection. She really, really helped me with a lot of shit and hard times. Around the time that I finally got to being able to be independent, she began to get sick again, but from something we couldn't cure. Age. And as I got and have been getting better and better, she's been getting worse and worse. And now it's time for that to end. My mom told me today that I need to see her one last time. Before they put her down tomorrow. And it's just... like... I'm not even sure how to properly put it into words. How I feel. It's like part of me will die with her. Because like on some level, she felt like me. Like I've had dogs that I've loved to fucking pieces, but I've never had a dog that just was me. Was a me that I could help. A me that I could save. A me that I could love. And I think like a lot of our relation, this is symbolic. I've been getting to the point where I'm self actualising. Where I don't need that sort of connection with an animal. Where I can and am beautiful in and of myself, on my own. So it feels like... I'll be honest, I am not a very spiritual person. That's a long story, but like... If there is something, I felt it through my connection with my dog. That she was here to help me, as I helped her. And that now that I don't need that, it's time for her to rest And so I'm sad, but I'm so grateful. I'm grateful to have had this connection. I'm grateful to have had this healing. I'm grateful to have had her. I'm going to try to see her once more before she's done. Try to be there with her when it happens, if possible. My dad will be some sort of barrier to this- and the fact that I'll have to present male while around him another. But I will make it work. And convince my mom that it's okay. She did everything she could. This isn't her fault. It isn't my fault. It's no one's fault. I think on some level she understands the connection she and I have, and is so afraid that I'll blame her for it having to end. But it won't end. I am and will forever be more complete, and more powerful spiritually and emotionally because of the time we had. When she dies, it's not the end of that, the strength won't leave me. Because it's in me now. And so I feel bad. I feel sad. I feel happy. I feel grateful. I feel miserable. I feel a lot of things. I'm going to feel a lot more, I'm pretty sure. Because even though I know it's going to happen, and I knew it was going to happen, I will grieve for this. But I can and will celebrate her life as well. I just thought I'd get that all out there.