Norma glanced down at the animal that was laying in the soft, plush dog bed. Her brow was furrowed with frustration, her nose was scrunched, and her eyes brimmed with tears. The blonde woman's gaze drifted towards the door, yet no one was there.

   Below her was laying the dim-eyed, golden-haired dog that her brother had given her son eight years ago. A few minutes prior, Norma had heard her painful yelp, and ran to the stairs to see what had happened. She found her crumpled in a ball at the end of the stairs, whining as she looked up at Norma's worried expression.

   For a few minutes, she thought that everything might be okay.

   I should've known something was wrong, she reflected silently, glancing at her wrapped right hand.

   Juno had been in pain, and scared. Even the friendliest dog became a hazard when wounded.

   Although it hurt, she couldn't bring herself to blame the dog. I bite when I'm hurt, too, she tried musing to herself.

   The first thing she had done (after bandaging her miserably punctured hand) was to call Alex.

   "Hey Baby, everything okay there?"

   "Ah...no, Alex, it's Juno. She fell down the stairs today and hurt herself and-- she bit me, Alex-- just-- tore my hand apart..." the last part came out broken, as if she was finally starting to realize that the dog might not survive this ordeal.

   "I'm coming home. Just-- keep an eye on her, but don't try touching her again. If she's being that defensive..."

   She sighed. "What about Theresa?"

   Her husband was silent for a few grueling moments. "We'll just have to be honest with her, Norma. She's old enough-- she's old enough...she'll be fine. She'll understand."

   Norma grew silent. Her gaze drifted to the floor.

   "I love you, Norma. I'll see you soon."

   Now he was coming through the door, and she would have to compose herself-- she wouldn't be able to bear it if he saw her this way, mourning over a dog she never wanted like this.

   She resisted the urge to go and meet him. Maybe Juno will be fine, she told herself, waiting for Alex to appear in the doorway. Norma cast a final, furtive glance at the dog, knowing that her human instinct for hope and survival were getting in the way of what needed to be done.

   Alex paused in the doorway to their room, gazing down at Juno. "Oh, Honey-- we need to take her to the vet. This...I'm not sure she's going to come out of this."

   He was close to her now, as if he expected her to crumble, and so, as the tears began to flow, he pulled her to his chest, holding her close. The flood of emotion was so sudden that it scared her, and she enveloped herself in his warmth like a child. She hadn't cried like this in a long time. Just the very thought of letting go of the last living link that she would have to her son-- it killed her in more ways than one.

   She knew she shouldn't have been thinking about it so much. She had known what was coming the moment she found that stupid dog near the stairs, yet her brain refused to believe that such an outcome would be possible.

   Every time she looked at that dog, she saw her son, and yet she had never seemed to come to this conscious realization. She just chalked up the tender carefulness to her motherly skills, those things that had been so typical for her for a long time, and yet, it was something so similar and yet so different that was driving her to bond with that sweet little dog.

   She was finally letting go of the last link to Norman, and it was taking a piece of her heart with it.

   Norma didn't have the mental strength to try and explain this to her husband, but a part of her thought that maybe he understood, or at least knew.

   "Shhh...hey, it's okay. I know it feels terrible right now, but we should go on and take her. No use letting her suffer any longer," he said, holding her chin between gentle fingers. He hugged her one more time, then moved to the task of transporting Juno to the car.

   She sighed at herself, knowing that the worst part wasn't even over. She could only hope that Theresa would handle this better than she had.

   Their little girl had grown up with that happy little dog, living under the pretense that it was a gift to herself from her uncle before his passing. Juno had been something special to her: when Theresa was feverish and could barely hold her own head up, that little dog laid by her side, licking her cheek and encouraging her to get better. After a rough first day at school, Juno went nuts and ran to greet her, letting everyone know she was happy to see her little human. There wasn't a day that went by that Theresa didn't stop at the door and pat her dog's head before running upstairs to finish her homework, and Juno, bored without her playmate, would sit at those stairs until Theresa came down again.

   The moment finally came. She hardly stirred. Alex held Norma as they watched the life disappear from their beloved pet, her body becoming a shell of what it once was.

   They requested to have her body in order to bury her. Alex spent the rest of the evening digging the hole, while Norma picked Theresa up from school.

   Her mind was racing. She knew nothing of what to say in this instance; she always tried to spare her children the sting of death by telling them that they didn't have time for a dog. She mentally cursed her brother for a moment, until she remembered what he had told her when they were both only children.

   As soon as Theresa climbed into the car, she knew something was amiss. Her mother wasn't so good at feigning happiness as she used to be.

   "Mom-- what's wrong?"

   Norma's heart pounded. She bit back tears. "Juno-- Juno got hurt, Honey. We had to take her to the vet so that she didn't suffer. I'm really sorry, baby," she paused, noting how quickly things had turned. Already her daughter looked crestfallen and miserable. "She wanted me to tell you, she said, "Thank you for all the good times, Rese. I love you."

   A few tears drifted down her own face as she watched her daughter cry alone in the back seat. "She really said that?"

   Norma nodded, wiping the tears from against her nose. "Yeah. She barked it to me," she said, feeling a little sillier than she though she could at this moment.

   "I'll miss Juno, Mom," she stated bluntly, as if this were an argument she could win by sheer will.

   "I know you will, baby. And I will, too. She was a good pup, but I think she'd really want you to be happy with or without her."

   It hurt. A lot. But Norma, Alex, and Theresa were strong. It didn't mean that there weren't days where they didn't accidentally call out to Juno or cry because she was gone. But the hurt faded, and eventually, they were all able to look back and smile at the wonderful times they had with a wonderful pup.

   And every once in a while, when she was feeling really brave, Norma would pull out that last photo she took of Norman, viewing him as he froze, smiling happily, with Juno the puppy in his arms.