Something very sad happened a little over seven months ago. I’ve been trying to motivate myself to write about it, but, oddly enough, every time I’ve begun to type up a draft, all my words are just…wrong. I sound childish and whiny.
Because I’m a perfectionist bordering on absurdity, I’ve put it off and, in doing so, made it that much worse for myself.
I’m at the point now where I’m completely tortured. See? Histrionic already, and I’m not even warmed up.
I can’t help it; my heart is so broken.
My dog, Rennie, was killed in May. I had her for 14 years, and I loved her very much. She had been by my side through an incredible amount of life experiences. In fact, she had moved with me 11 times over the years.
Aside from immediate family and surrounding neighbors, I’ve kept her passing entirely private. The traumatic nature of her death was my main reason for not sharing right away.
Back in May, just after Memorial Day Weekend, and I was working in my Front Yard Garden with Rennie close by me, in one of the garden rows. It was late afternoon, approaching early evening. This, of course, was at the end of Spring, beginning of Summer, when the daylight lasted well into the evening.
Rennie was basking and investigating the plants.
At this point, a woman on a bicycle came up the street. She was being led by a very large dog on a leash. As they got closer to my house, the dog spotted Rennie in my yard, and crossed the street towards us. Rennie (who was not on a leash since we were in my yard) headed towards the property line, yapping at the huge dog.
A lot of things happened at once:
- The large dog pulled the woman off of her bicycle.
- Overpowered, the woman let go of her dog’s leash.
- The woman yelled at me to get my dog to protect her from her dog.
- I jumped to grab Rennie but did not get her in time because I lack animal reflexes.
Rennie’s torso was clamped tight in the large dog’s jaws. And she was shaken brutally, as if she were a toy.
The woman and dog fled the scene.
I picked up my precious, shredded baby and screamed so hysterically that every one of my neighbors on the entire street came running out of their houses. My neighbor directly across the street, Matt, dropped everything he was doing and rushed us to the emergency vet, blowing through every red light to get us there.
Matt pulled into the parking lot and I opened the passenger door, stepped out, cradling Rennie carefully. Matt’s car interior; the seat, the handle, the locks, everything, it had all been smeared with blood. It was gruesome. There was so much blood for such a little dog.
I walked straight into the Animal E.R. with Rennie, screaming and sobbing for someone to help me. The vet took one look and said, I’m Sorry.
Rennie had died in my lap on the way there.
I don’t think I want to write anything else about it.
2015: You hurt me so much.
