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UPDATE: Moved site to http://wheretherainfallsdown.blogspot.com
Bang! Bang! Bang! It's 11:30pm and someone's banging on your door. Bang! Bang! Bang! Your dad jumps off the couch from a dead sleep and stumbles to the door. A lady's standing there.
"Do you have a tan colored dog?"
"Yes."
"Sir, I think your dogs been hit... He looks pretty bad."
"What!?!?! Show me!"
"Come with me then..."
You hear a whistle and two labs come bounding up the your dad. No, it's not one of your dogs. Oh God, please don't let it be the Browns* dog! Running your dad and the lady jump the fence, and sure enough, it's the Browns dog... Your dad sprints back down the street and up the driveway. He rips you out of bed.
"Taylor, Tyson's been hit. Hurry up. I'm grabbing the jeep and'll meet you there. He's by their driveway."
Scrambling you throw on some decent clothes and start running. By now there is probably around 15 people standing around. You squat down and start murmuring to him. There's blood EVERYWHERE. It's coming out of his nose and mouth. Your dad pulls up. His body is starting to cool down and he's going into shock. Your dad and three other people pick him up and start putting him in the jeep. You scramble in and help position him on his side. People start packing blankets around him. Everyone starts emptying their wallets and pockets to pay for whatever vet bills come up. You go and sit in the passengers seat and off you go. Soon the blankets start flapping 'cause you're in a jeep rubicon with the doors and top off. So, you unbuckle and try to pin them down. By this time you have blood ALL over you. He (the dog) struggles to rise so he can clear the blood and keep from suffocating. You get sprayed with blood. He lays back down. You rub him to keep him warm and talk to him to keep him calm. He repeats the struggle to rise many times. Finally he gets too weak to rise anymore. He shudders and you feel his life slip through your hands. You start yelling at him to stay with you. You're only 1 mile from the emergency vet's. Come on Tyson! You CAN do it! But, you lose him. He stops breathing and he shudders 2 or 3 times. You tell your dad (more like scream. The wind is really loud) that you don't think he's not breathing. You smack his shoulder calling his name. You grab his scruff and give his head a shake. He's gone though. You've never touched a dead body or even really seen one so you feel the urge to puke. Mind you 5 minutes before we had gotten a hold of the owners and his wife's in emergency surgery and we had thought he was going to be OK. As in make it to the EV (Emergency vets). We thought he'd probably have to get put down because you could tell his lower back was fractured. But, you reach the vet's and someone's waiting for you. You tell her you don't think he's breathing and that you think he's gone. She checks and sure enough he's gone. Y'all pull him out (mind you he's a 150# dog and was bred to fight lions) and blood just pours EVERYWHERE. You then place him on the wheeled gurney. Now, you and your dad start crying. You're both covered in blood and you have it covering your arms, shirt, neck, and face. She lets you go clean up and when your dad leaves the bathroom you go in and just sob. You then go and fill out some paperwork. You are then allowed to go. You call the owner and tell him the bad news. On the way home you freeze your butts off so you don't have enough energy to cry. But when you get home you go to your room and sob. and sob. and sob.
Yep, that's my weekend. It sucked. I still just want to cry. But, I can't right now. I'm at my g-parents with the fam (extended) and have non-waterproof mascara on. *sighs* I'm emotionally drained. I don't feel anymore emotions. I'm just too drained *smiles shakily* *sighs* I've got to go now... Or I may start crying...
*Names changed to protect privacy
