On my 6th birthday, I got a dog named Ace, an absolutely beautiful golden retriever chow mix that was my only friend throughout a very lonely elementary-middle school life.
My parents called me one day in July of 2009 while I was at work (I was stationed in my hometown after a few tours) telling me they were taking him to be put down because he was having some terrible medical problems and in pain. I asked my Top if I could go and he threw me out of the office, on the way towards my folks house I called my wife at work (DQ) crying hysterically about it. I told her that she will have to either take the bus home or have her mother take her. The bus was a straight route and would take 15 minutes, and her mom lived between her work and our house so it would be no hassle anyway.
Cut the story short, she starts screaming at me for caring more about a “stupid fucking dog” than her having to take the bus home, I hung up and that was it. I never kissed or hugged her again.