One of the hardest things to do is comforting one of the kids when they lose a pet, particularly when I'm crying myself. This morning I found out that my ex-SiL took M's dog Wizard (Wizzy) to the pound. M has had Wizzy for 10 years and we've all taken care of the old girl through all sorts of health problems after being run over and attacked by other dogs and being almost completely blind. Wizzy was supposed to go to one of our neighbor's (she has one of Wizzy's sisters) to stay after the ex-SiL moved into a new apartment that didn't allow pets but something went wrong with the plan and the neighbor couldn't take her in. So off to the pound. *cusses more* I know Misty didn't even try to find another home and I know that there's a good chance that Wizzy is going to be put down because of her age and eyesight. And I know she's scared because she doesn't know anyone and wondering where her family is... *grabs tissues* S asked me to call V and M and talk to them because V was crying all morning about Wizzy. I'd have to say that the worse thing in the world to hear is my babies hearts breaking (especially when mine is at the same time).

eta: I called back to talk to the ex-SiL (to chew her out) and she said that she didn't actually take Wizzy to the pound but gave her to someone from her work. I don't believe her, not for one bloody second. You don't leave the house to go to the pound and suddenly (it's a miracle! hallefuckinglujah!) she's got a home for the dog after all.