In a week, I'm going to be crying about this
Hermione died this morning. It hasn't hit me yet. She was fine last night, but when we got up this morning she was having trouble walking and her gums were really pale. Apparently she had a tumor on her liver, and it started bleeding. My parents got me from school so I could come say goodbye. In a way, it's really lucky that it happened now - my sister is rarely in town, and if it had happened a week from now, she wouldn't have gotten to say goodbye. This is the first time since I started forming memories that we won't have a dog. Nobody for my dad to walk in the mornings, no automatic cue to feed Moonlight, no dog bedding in the living room, two thirds the amount of animal fur on our stuff... the actual grief hasn't hit me yet, but the panicked feeling of "What's happening? I don't understand." is here in full force.