I had a horrible experience today. Obedience lessons with Chase were awesome this morning and my trainer came up with some great things we are going to do with his heeling, his stand for exam (he gets too wiggly he loves people so much), an his go outs.
I also got my nails done, sparkled green and red for Christmas. I like them much. Then I came home and had lunch, then I planned to get the car washed, get a photo taken for a passport picture, then I was going to do some short Christmas shopping.
So I go and get the car washed and it’s nice and clean. Well, as clean as it gets hauling dogs around in it so often. I leave the car wash and I’m driving to get the passport picture and I see this little Italian Greyhound running through the streets and in a Firestone parking lot close to my house. I’m stopped at a red light and saying crap to myself, I have to help this little guy. He was big for an Iggy but too small to be a whippet. He had a collar and tags. So when the light turns green I turn the corner and park, hastily, in the Firestone parking lot.
There was another girl trying to catch him and he was scared so he ran out, of course, into traffic. A lady in a white car didn’t see him and hit him with the right front of her car. This was the lane not closest to the parking lot, so I run out in front of a car in that first lane, and I stand there frozen as I watched this poor little boy get hit by a car.
At this point, if you don’t want to read more, skip to the end, because I need to get this off my chest and it’s pretty graphic.
Graphic Bad Stuff Follows:
It was awful. She hit him with her front, and then he tumbled and crumpled and then her back tire went over his neck. His eye popped out, he was broken and bleeding, and his body just shuddered like a leaf as I stood there. It was like a movie. It was unreal. I usually look away from things like this but my neck wouldn’t turn and my eyes wouldn’t close. I just stood there as he shook and shuddered.
Finally my brain kicked back into gear when he stopped shaking and I pulled off my sweatshirt and laid it over him. The lady who hit him stopped and got out of her car, crying. The other girl was also pretty upset. But I went into take charge mode, my emotions were stuffed someplace in the back of my spine, and I picked him up, supporting his head, and carried him to my car. The lady who hit him, I told her to go on there was nothing she could do. The girl followed me and opened the back of my Outback. I laid him inside and went to Brickyard Animal Hospital, the closest vet to me and only a couple of minutes away. But already I knew it was too late for him. I thought he was dead. It was too bad of a hit.
I pulled in front of the vet, ran in, and said I have a dog in my car that’d been hit. They were super nice, one of the vet techs came to the car and grabbed him up. She saw a pulse in his neck.. you could see it, because it was pretty exposed. One of his back legs flopped around and you could see the bone, most of the skin was ripped off.
She took him in the back quickly. Another girl directed me to the bathroom and I washed up, I had blood all down my left arm, splattered on my jeans and shirt. I washed my skin off as best I could.
End Graphic Bad Stuff
They came into the bathroom and asked me if they couldn’t find his people, if I wanted to try to save him. I said only if he has a chance (which I doubted) and if he would be in too much pain then put him down. Well only a couple of minutes later they said he was dead.
He had a microchip tag on, and a tag from a rescue group. The vet took down my name and said they would let me know if they could find his people.
One of the girls came out to my car and cleaned up the blood. I have a rubber mat in the back and she scrubbed it pretty good, but I think there is still blood in the cracks. I’ll pull it out in the next few days and scrub it good.
So with blood on me and being emotional plastered, I just went home. I sat in the driveway, in my car, for about 15 minutes and just cried. When I dropped him at the vet I was shaking like a leaf, but I can kick into that gear where I need to get things done, and I do it. After… that’s when I fall apart. And thank the gods for Zoloft, because I’d still be a wreck if I didn’t have it to dull my emotions. However, I feel weird, like I should feel more, but sometimes it’s good not to feel more, and I’m glad I have it as a crutch. Though, of course, I was still emotionally stunned and bewildered and miserable. It was enough emotion, I think.
When I finally came inside I threw my clothes in the wash and hugged my husband for another 15 minutes. Then I put on my robe, sat down in front of the TV and cried some more. Levi licked my tears, he is such a good boy. Then I watched the second 2/3s of Alive. I figured I needed a show where the characters had it worse than me. And that actually did help.
Then my husband and I went to a movie, but it wasn’t really enough to distract me. And now I’m talking about it, because I have to get it out of me to help me deal with it.
The vet called back, they told me they found his people. His name was Gratzy and he was a 10 year old Italian Greyhound. He had been adopted only a year earlier.
Why he was out, I don’t know. I know it can happen to anyone, but it really pissed me off. He didn’t even have a name tag on, just his tags from a year ago from the rescue. If anything like that ever happened to any of my rescue collies, I would be blank with anger and rage.
So to those who read this, please send a little white light to Gratzy’s spirit. Let him know he was loved, and he is free now. I feel rather bad that I wasn’t more emotionally comforting to him in his last moments on this Earth. I was businesslike and had to get things done. But now, when I can look back, I can almost feel his spirit near me, and I hope he is thanking me for trying to help him. Maybe I’m wacko thinking that, but it helps me to feel better, and it really feels true.
Now I better go see what the Terror Tot is getting into upstairs. I so love my dogs. I am so glad they are safe.