All dogs go to heaven.

Exactly one year ago today, I came home and got shitty drunk on Jack Daniels.

My mom had called me at work, and told me that the vet's test results came back, for some tests we had done on our dog Emo. Pancreatic Cancer.

Katie was working on homework, so I laid on the floor of the living room, drinking straight from the bottle, occasionally getting up to pet our dog Cooper.

The next day, my dad took Emo for a ride in the truck to go see a specialist. He died less than a minute after my dad put him on the examination table. Honestly, I think he was just waiting to get one more ride in my dad's truck. Seriously, he loved that truck. We used to have to fight to get him out of it. You'd open the door, and he'd climb in the back seat, plop down, keep you company while doing errands, and stay there on the back seat for hours. It didn't matter how long you'd been home, he wouldn't get out of the truck! His record was 10 hours. 10 hours without food, or water, or going to the bathroom. It was his truck really.

My mom called me after my dad got him back home, and I don't know why, it's not like I could bring him back, but I left work, and rushed to my parent's house. I cried. A lot. That was also the first time I ever saw my dad cry.

Now, when Emo died, I had another dog, a dog that my wife and I got after moving in together. Cooper. He's awesome. Cute as hell. But he's not the same as Emo.

Just before this past Christmas, Katie and I rescued a puppy, a Golden Retriever Mix. Jake. He's insane. Incredibly cute. He truly reminds me of a combination of Angel, my dog that died back in 2003, and Emo. It's like God, Allah, Yaweh, Elvis, whoever... took traits from my two dogs that had died, and put them in Jake. He even smells like them. He's similar to Angel and Emo, but he's not the same as them.

After my classes were over today, I came home, and got shitty drunk on Jack Daniels.