Tears flowed and pugs gave hugs.

My mother and sister came for a visit this afternoon and brought Larry, my sister’s pug,

to spend some time as well. We talked about what I’ve been doing to pass the time,

my new diagnosis of BPD and what was going to happen when I’m sent home on

Monday. Larry, of course, wanted to be the centre of attention, and insisted on being

atop the picnic table we were sitting at. My mood was rather somber despite the

welcome visit and Larry must have sensed this so he walked over to me at sat right

in front of my face. He then turned slightly sideways and put his head on my shoulder,

giving me a hug.

I placed my arms around him and we sat like that for about 20 seconds, allowing my
sister to take this excellent picture. When he backed off he stood up and his tail curled
up, just like a happy pug does, and he gave me a kiss before walking away, happy that
he’d gotten the attention from me that he was looking for. 

It’s hours later and I still can’t believe that happened and each time I think about it tears
begin to well up in my eyes. If you look at the picture you can almost see that he feels
sad for me and knew exactly what he was doing and I’ve never needed or appreciated a
hug more than the one my sister’s dog gave me this afternoon. Wil Wheaton often half
jokes that we don’t deserve dogs and after what happened today, I’m inclined to agree. 

Compared to that hug, all the time and hugs I got from my mom and sister seem to
matter just a little bit less than I thought they would at the beginning of the day.