Maya is my dog. She has a tumor on her back stemming from the site of an injury from almost 2-3 years ago, and a tiny tumor on her “right pinky.” She heads in for surgery this upcoming Thursday, three days from now, and I keep realizing she’s all I care about and identify as home. She’s my constant through the last decade. She’s reacted to bad boyfriends, sunbathed with good ones while they lasted. She’s my companion beyond place and time. Her diagnosis will be a little more clear after her surgery but it’s sounding like kidneys are being impacted. Anyone whose owned a dog knows they see into your soul. They’re not there to judge you, but react. She’s kicked my phone out of my hands, she’s raced up to bullies. She’s shown me my mom’s love is the equivalent of unfiltered sunlight. Pure joy. I love her to the end of the earth and I know she loves me. I adopted her at 6 years old from the humane society in Austin,TX after visiting three times, leaving twice because my crying was becoming audible. She’s had her heart broken, she’s been abandoned, but I will never leave her side. I don’t understand people who leave their dogs or who punish dogs instead of communicate with their people. We will push through this but I know someday she’ll tell me it’s time. Maya papaya in the sky. She’s my most pure love I’ve ever known.