Here is an email I sent to my sister:
Sophia Mas called me this morning while I was walking back from Starbucks with two of my coworkers. I returned to Starbucks and talked to her for a little more than 45 minutes.
She told me that mom had been desperate to talk to you this morning, so she let her call you. She said you guys were able to talk for a little while, but Sophia ran out of time before she could call me so I could talk to her, so I am planning on attempting to call mom this afternoon. I am not going to tell her about Buddie, 1 and certainly will not say anything about Mocha or Paprika. 2 (If she asks I will simply let her know that both pets are doing well and friends are making sure they are okay, but not that [name redacted] took Mocha to [name redacted].)
Sophia and I just discussed some of mom’s history, and we weren’t making any decisions or anything like that, which is why I didn’t bother to conference you into the call. Apparently Rodney Curtis, the discharge coordinator, misunderstood when I told him about Buddie yesterday and he thought that Mocha had died. Thank God that you cleared that up. Sophia said that they had been planning on telling her that Mocha had died after the weekend, which would have been a disaster.
After I talk to mom this afternoon — if I can talk to her — I will send you another email and let you know.
I love you,