Today is Wednesday, December 13, 2006, and it is officially one of the worst days in my life. Compounding my misery is the fact that it really is All My Fault. (For those who know that I'm 5-1/2 months pregnant with twins, the babies are okay; this isn't about them.)
Today there was a preventable accident. Granted, that magic word “accident” should be helping, but its not. I keep replaying the scene over and over in my head, and wishing things had turned out differently. I am posting this story in General Discussion instead of the Lounge so that hopefully, other people may avoid the same situation. Mods, if it’s the wrong place, my apologies in advance; its been a rough day.
This morning I took three of my dogs to the groomers – Anya, Tessa, and Noche. I have had Anya and Tessa since they were nine day old orphans, while Noche has been with us since she was three weeks old. Anya and Tessa were part of our first “foster litter,” along with their sister Loki. Of course, back then they were known as “Red”, “White” and “No-Spot,” despite the fact they were pure black because we tried using nail polish on their heads to determine who was who so we could keep track of feeding them. Neither their eyes nor ears were open; we bottle-fed them, and ended up keeping Anya and Tessa, while Loki went to live with our best friends. (Loki had nuzzled up to the wife, and that was that, otherwise I think all three would have been permanent members of the household, with our “foster career” being over!)
Over the course of the next four years, we fostered another 85 puppies for our local rescue group, and despite learning about a lot of idiots and rotten people, the experience was an amazingly positive one. For us, it was about the dogs, and as a side benefit, it was an outlet for my nurturing nature while we dealt with the hell of infertility.
My husband and I are “good dog owners.” Our pets are extremely well mannered because we trained them that way. We don’t let them jump on people, they have a “bed” they go to when guests arrive, and they are very affectionate. We “child proofed” them from a young age – pulling on their ears, their tails, playing with their faces, and exposing them to a variety of people. They sit, they stay, and they are pretty good on a leash (initial “excited” pulling, but then appropriate “heeling” once the walk gets going). They come when they are called, and are always up to date with their vaccinations and licenses. As a matter of fact, they were just seen yesterday (Tuesday, December 12, 2006) by our vet, who, as usual, gave us compliments on their good manners.
Anya and Tessa are “Flat Coated Retriever” mixes. If you aren’t familiar with the breed, think of a pure BLACK Golden Retriever (complete with beautiful wavy coat), or a long haired Black Labrador. Noche is a German Shepherd/Rottweiller/Chow mix, which sounds scary, but she is one of the most amazing and lovely dogs on the planet, to the point where we have frequently considered taking her for “therapy dog” work. (She is a Lover Girl!) We also have two other “perma foster” dogs – Ladybug, an Australian Shepherd who is a couch potato, and Fuzzball the Magnificent, who we think is a Lhaso Apso/Cairn Terrier mix. As the only boy in the household, Fuzzball likes to think he’s the Alpha dog, which is pretty funny considering he weighs about fifteen pounds, while the rest range from 50 to 80 pounds. Periodically the big girls just “whap” him down with a paw when he gets too hyperactive, although things have calmed down since Onyx the Wonder Kitten joined the household a few months back – she believes ALL the dogs are here to be her personal play toys, and she loves to “wrestle” with Fuzzball.
I tell you about my puppies (six years old now), so you can understand the depth of the loss that hit me today. As I said, I took Anya, Tessa, and Noche to the groomers. They were excited, but I refused to put their leashes on them until everyone calmed down and did a “sit” for me. I had already opened up the back of the Trailblazer, and the girls were eager to go. I got “pulled” out to the car, and all three jumped in, just like they had a million times before. They sat down, I closed the hatch, and off we went to the groomers – a seven minute drive at the most. I remember thinking that I would stop off for McDonald’s on the way back, and being proud of how well behaved my dogs were being. (All three were happily looking out the back window.) It was a good day, and I planned to do another trip with Ladybug and Fuzzball, despite the fact I’m technically only allowed out once a day due to the whole “five and a half months pregnant with twins” thing that has me on house arrest/modified bed rest.
When I pulled into the parking lot at the groomers and went back to get my dogs, I noticed a mud puddle. I remember thinking to myself “better not park here when I come to pick them up” and began opening the back of the vehicle. I only opened it a little bit, and immediately ordered my dogs to “Sit!” just like I always do – only this time, my hyper excited dogs didn’t obey orders, and all three of them scrambled out of the vehicle, and as I vainly lunged for them and their leashes (catching a small part of Anya’s tail), all three of them took off across the parking lot, with a sudden attack of deafness to my shouted orders to Come, Stop, GET BACK HERE!
I wish I could say this was the first time they had every disobeyed orders; it wasn’t. Usually sudden attacks of deafness can be attributed to the Evil Ones (aka “squirrels”) who inhabit our backyard, or the unwatched door held open by an unsuspecting niece or nephew that demands an immediate romp down to the end of our block followed by a quick return trip home. They are rarely out of sight, and in that, this time was no different.
Except this time, we were at the groomers, and they ran into the middle of the street, where Anya and Tessa, running in tandem as always, were both hit by the same car, and killed pretty much instantaneously.It was my fault. I should have grabbed the leashes, I should have trained them better, I should have been more careful – I should have, I Should Have, I SHOULD HAVE!!!
I had been chasing after them across the parking lot. I stopped. I screamed. Noche was trying to follow them, but she came back, only she knew something was up, and thought it was time to play some “chase” – the groomer caught her, and meanwhile she (the groomer) was screaming at me not to go near Anya and Tessa, and yelling at the other people NOT to let me go near them because I was pregnant with twins, and a very nice man grabbed me, and wouldn’t let me go to them. I yelled for someone to call our vet (Where was my cell phone? In my purse? Where was my purse? I had left it at home because it was just a quick trip down the street…), and then, when no one would let me go to my baby girls, I begged the groomer to go be with them. They weren’t moving after the first initial horrible “bounce,” but the woman who had hit them, bless her heart, had stopped, as had several other people. Someone pulled them out of the street. Everyone was very nice to me.
It didn’t make things better, but I am grateful for the kindness that was shown.
I was taken back to the groomers, and ordered to stay. Noche had been taken into the shop, and was doing fine. I called my husband and hysterically begged him to come home. He had an hour long drive, and made it in record time. We got a hold of the vet, and the very nice man who stopped me from seeing my dogs “like that” transported them first into my vehicle, and then, into his own vehicle where he took them to the vet. (I still wasn’t allowed to see them; I later learned they were “intact,” but bleeding from the nose and mouth.)
I apologized to the woman who hit them, who was apologizing to me. We were both crying. It wasn’t her fault; it was mine. It was my duty to keep my dogs under control, and I had let them slip away from me. I felt bad for her, because she was obviously an animal lover, and she didn’t do it on purpose.
Everyone kept yelling at me to calm down and think of the babies, because I kept crying. I just couldn’t stop. Honestly, I still can’t. It feels like a nightmare that I pray God I’m going to wake up from soon. Finally, my groomer put her four month old newborn in front of me, and ordered me to remember to think of the two babies I’ve got growing inside of me. Her son is adorable, and he thought the funny faces I was making were hysterical; did I mention that everyone was being very kind?
Afterwards, my groomer showed me a little “Safety Snap Hook” that I didn’t know existed that I could have used to attach their leashes to one of the “handles” inside of the car. It is killing me that I didn’t know about this thing before hand – I’ve seen them before, but never put it together with “use it to attach leashes to car so dogs can’t escape.” I would have gladly spent the few dollars that would have kept my puppies safe.
My mother came, and drove my vehicle and I home. We arrived at the same time as my husband. The vet called with the news I’d already been given – they were gone; it was pretty much instantaneous, and there was nothing that could have been done to save them (except, of course, not let them get hit by a car!).
My heart (and that of my husband) has been completely ripped to shreds. There are those who will post sympathetic and supportive comments, and I thank you in advance. There are those who will make snarky comments, because this is a message board, and that happens sometimes. To those people, let me assure you there is nothing you can say that will make me feel worse; I let my beloved dogs get hit by a car, and they are gone forever.
I Get It!I am telling this story so other people who have dogs can hopefully avoid the same situation I was in today. Everything else aside, if I’d known about the “Safety Snap Hook” thing, my dogs wouldn’t have been able to get away from me, even if they’d wanted to, and I wouldn’t be sitting here grieving them right this minute. You can find them pretty much anywhere, but if you want to see what I’m talking about, here’s a link:
http://www.homedepot.com/prel80/HDUS/EN_US/diy_main/pg_diy.jsp?CNTTYPE=PROD_META&CNTKEY=misc%2fsearchResults.jsp&BV_SessionID=@@@@1339732761.1166068892@@@@&BV_EngineID=ccfkaddjjddflfgcgelceffdfgidgln.0&MID=9876
Either way, I know it was my fault. Yes, it was an accident, and these things happen. Believe it or not, that isn’t making things any easier at the moment, but given time, perhaps it will. I am lucky we didn’t lose Noche, too, and I realize that. I was blessed to have Anya and Tessa in my life, and I would rather suffer through their loss than never have known them at all. It’s going to be a little bit of time before that stops hurting, too.
Nevertheless, the house is emptier tonight, and will be for a long time to come. I can only ask that other people learn from my pain: Please do what it takes to keep your beloved pets safe – there is no time that is a good one for a loss such as this. Even if your dog is perfectly trained, remember that it only takes one excited hyperactive moment to lose them forever.
Get to the hardware store, get one of these “Safety Snap Hook” things, and then PLEASE USE IT!
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