Quote of the Month:

"The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing." - Walt Disney
{Past Quotes}

Thursday, January 10, 2013

The Death of a Dog

I killed a dog last night.

I was driving home from school. On east bound 58 going 65 mph. There was no time to stop. No time to swerve or switch lanes. He just walked out right in front of my car. I saw him walk past the car in front of me on the right lane and all too late realized that he wasn't going to walk fast enough to make it past mine. I hit him dead center.

What happened next was complete shock. It all happened in slow motion. I saw the dog walking casually across the freeway. I quickly checked my mirrors to see if I had any chance at all to avoid it. I hit the dog.

It was a big dog. My front bumper was broken. I heard something dragging and for a gruesome second thought it was the dog. I pulled to the side of the road and that's when the "oh my god. oh my god. oh my god"s started happening. Then came the sobs and the thoughts "should I call 911?" Then I thought no, they don't show up for roadkill. I convinced myself to get out of my car and go check the front... just to make sure there wasn't a dog stuck to the front of my car. Nope, bumper just destroyed. Then I dared myself to look behind me.

It was dark; all I could see was the silhouette of the dog whenever a car passed. I called my mom. "Mom, I just hit a dog." Crying the whole time, I told her my bumper was broken. She asked where I was, and I couldn't think straight exactly. I had to walk back to the sign over the freeway. By the dog's body. I walked a little ways and saw the Mt. Vernon sign. I took a look at the dog. When a car passed, I could have swore I saw it breathing...

My mom told me to get back into my car where it was safe (I was on the left side of the freeway on a bridge after-all  and wait until they got there. I cried and cried. What if I just killed someone's baby? What if it is still alive? Laying there in the road suffering.

My parents pulled up and when my dad got to me he hugged me as I bawled into his jacket. I told him it was still alive and he told me it wasn't when they passed it. I came to one of two conclusions- it was actually dead, or my dad was trying to make me feel better.

My mom drove me home, and when I got there I cuddled and petted my dog Champ for a good long while.

And all the hysterical side of me could think "This is all Chris' fault." I got out of class early today; if he hadn't of broken up with me I would be at Prime Cut right now, not driving home.

So far 2013 is one of the worst years of my life.

A
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