I just witnessed my dog make a Sophie's Choice. "Which one? The duck i've bonded with for two years, or the newest child? Can I have another? Am I going to die? *cue the orchestra* She was in my shower whining. I brought her other baby to her, the guinea pig, she TUCKED THEM UNDER HER, and lay down, shivering.
Are you kidding me with the sorrow and motherly protection?!?! Oh, Sally Derg. They aren't really your children. (Also, it is still hailing, so she won't come out for snorgles or anything.) *SAD FACE TIMES A JILLION*
[ETA] NOW WITH PICTORIAL.
The abandoned child. Who, but a mother, can understand the difficult choice in choosing who will live, and who will lay on the carpet in the living room?
Brothers from another mother - back home where they belong. Next to the shower and my husband's dirty socks.
She's been in the bathroom with them for two hours, now. PATHETIC! (Also: d'aww.)