Last night, I was driving home from the bus stop with Andrew, planning on writing a completely different entry. You see, last night was a friend of mine’s 19th birthday, and I didn’t go. I was going to write about that… but in a flash something else happened.
We were driving down the main street, just about to turn onto our street, when my Dad suddenly tried to stop the car, we lurched forward, and we ran over something. I had no idea what was happening–my Dad had tried to stop, but everything happened so fast. When I turned around to see what my Dad had run over, I got a shock. It wasn’t a garbage can, which was my first thought, but there was a tiny little white dog lying just where we had driven. Immediately, my Dad pulled over, and the three of us jumped out of the car, rushing backwards. There was another, much larger, black dog circling the much smaller other dog in the middle of the road.Thankfully, there had been no cars driving close behind us.
To be clear, I have huge dog fear, especially big black dogs. This one weighed about as much as me, maybe even more, but immediately I called him over and he came running, taking a seat at my feet. Although you could tell he was scared, he was a sweet dog. Dad stood over the other one, and Andrew was directing cars because we weren’t sure if the little white dog was okay or not. Almost as soon as we had pulled over one of the city trucks had drive by, and–not knowing what had happened–had pulled up in front of where we were standing, just to make sure that people went around. Andrew was on the phone with animal control, trying to get them down to where we were. Neither dogs had tags on them, so we had no idea where the dogs were even from. A couple women walked by, asking us if we were okay, assuring my Dad that it wasn’t his fault. There was no time to react.
We stood around waiting for a while, wondering when Animal Control would show up. A couple women came out to talk to us, one because she had seen what happened from her window and thought the person who had hit the dogs had driven off–Dad had taken the car home, because it was literally a 20 second drive to our house, and we had been taking up a lot of room on the road–and we assured her that, no, we had stuck around and were just waiting for someone to help us. Another women had brought the big black dog some water, although he didn’t want it.
The whole night was just so sad. I love animals, I love dogs, and it makes me so sad. There was nothing that we could have done, but it still is so horrible. All I can do is think about the poor dog owner, who is probably calling around wondering what happened. I think about my Dad, who loves animals, and you could tell was upset about the whole thing. Even after he knew the poor little white dog was dead, he was gently petting her, apologizing and feeling bad. And the poor black dog, who lost his friend and seemed so scared. And, all I can do is think about what if it hadn’t been the little white dog. What if it had been the black dog? None of us had even seen him until after we had pulled over.
Rest in Peace poor little white dog.