This will probably get emotional, with traces of sarcasm because that's my way of dealing with emotional surprises. You've been warned.

So something unexpected happened this afternoon. Gracie, the mother of all those golden retriever puppies I raved about last year, was put down. Her kidneys failed for the second time and she wasn't going to recover from it again. We weren't able to say goodbye to her, because she was already at the vet when my dad got the call.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was going to have at least five more litters, retire, and be a happy hunting dog for the rest of her life. Oh, and I really, really wanted one of her puppies, the cutest puppies to ever come into the world.

Nope. Of course not. Nothing ever goes how we plan it, right?

Sure, she was an oddball. She chewed, tore up and broke about five thousand dollars worth of stuff in the short time she was with us (big number because she broke my dad's iPad). She was convinced our cat was  furry duck and insisted on chasing her around the house. But she was an absolute sweetheart and incredibly lovable. I'm going to miss that troublemaker.

So...that was the wonderful surprise that life threw at me in the midst of mild depression and anxiety about midterms. Thanks life. I owe ya one.

At this point, I don't know what we're going to do about getting a second dog. We have puppies coming to stay with us almost every weekend now, but only for the weekend. I miss having a puppy around all the time.

I'm aware that I'm horrible at writing tributes. But I needed to get this off my chest. So...that's that.