In sadder news, we think we're probably going to put Sam (my dog) down after Thanksgiving. He's nearly twelve, and he hasn't been walking very well - his back legs hardly work at all - and the vet thinks he may be getting ready for kidney failure. I'm actually not too upset about it, because he's lived a long life (a lot longer than most large dogs), and he's in pain now. My mom keeps crying about it constantly, though, and I'm wondering if there's something wrong with me, because when my mother's parents died, I figured that of course she'd be upset, and they were only my grandparents so of course I'd be able to look at it more logically. But this is my dog, who I've had since I was five. Shouldn't I be at least a bit upset? Or maybe I just get it from my dad. I mean, when his dad died he didn't cry or even change his behavior at all, and he's sort of avoided his half-brother (who is a year older than me), the same way I avoid my mom when people die. I mean, I'm fairly certain I'm not a sociopath, so I'm not too worried about it. I'm just logical.
To get away from the sad subject, I shall tell you all future plans! Well, tomorrow the school's going on a field trip to a Country Buffet (this is SO going to end badly). And my mother has agreed that I can get a cat once I clean my room (as the litterbox will go in my room), if Aunt Martha agrees I can have a cat at her place. If I do get a cat, I have already decided to name it Fluffernutter. I can call it Fluff for short. Or maybe I'll give it a really ridiculous name, like Ryan Fluffernutter IV.