On the way home, we named her Cloey. She stopped shivering once we got her warm by carrying her all the way home in our shirts. We loved that little girl.
My mother, of course, wasn't happy. My dad didn't seem to care since he had promised me a dog about 6 months ago, buy my mom's feirce looks persuaded him otherwise.
Soon Short Stop left, Steve came over, and we eventually ended up going to Walgreens to pick up some infant formula since Cloey wasn't eating the solid food. (My cousin had also came over because my aunt got arrested, but that's another story.)
I had to wake up about every two hours to soothe Cloey's whimpering, feed her, and take her out. Cloey was afraid of the dark, and screamed everytime I left her alone. For awhile I had to let her sleep on my stomach, but in the morning my mother called the Humane while I was at school. Luckily, there was no cage available yet, and Cloey stayed with me another night, in which she only woke up once.
I loved that little puppy. I took her everywhere, and she was perfect. She was my baby.
But of course my mother took away my puppy today. She gave my baby away.
And it broke my heart when the little kids from accross the street came knocking at the door... wanting to say good bye to the little puppy they had played with yesterday... and I had to inform them that my mother had taken Cloey away.