The first time I heard my mom was finally going to agree to get a dog was from my sister over text eight months after I moved from Arizona to California for school and two weeks before I was supposed to come home for the summer. After confronting my mother about it, she sent me the sweetest picture. It’s of her holding the most adorable three week old Great Pyrenees puppy. That dog looked like it belonged with my mom. My two sisters and I all agreed that it would be a crime against the universe if she didn’t take her home. They belonged together.