Yesterday morning, Friday, May 25th, 2007, at approximately 6:53 a.m., I ran over my dog JoJo, the geriatric Beagle/German shepherd cross who had up until that very time been alive on this planet for almost fifteen years.
I would like to say the blame is shared – part senior moment on my end, part senior moment on hers (she was, after all, extremely old for a dog, half blind, almost completely deaf, arthritic, and suffering from “doggie dementia”). I couldn’t have been doing more than a couple miles an hour, trudging up the steep hill that is our driveway. Perhaps JoJo simply tripped and fell in front of the wheel. But really, I’m fully at fault. I’m the human. It is my job to look out for her, not the other way around.
I cannot fully express just how dark and horrible an event this was. And still is. I still feel sick to my stomach. I still feel like I committed murder. I still feel like someone stuck their hand right through my chest and ripped out my heart.
But there’s nothing that can be done. All I can do is remember that prior to my senior moment, JoJo had lived not only a long life, but also a good one, filled with fun and love.
We always said that JoJo was really a person in a dog suit, hoping her entire life that NEXT time around she would get to come back as a simply fabulous human being. I’m certain that she will. S.B. and I will be on the lookout . . .
6 comments:
with deepest sorrow, I salute dear Jojo and and for you my dear friend, my heart aches.
I'm so so sorry. That is tragic. You have all my sympathy, love, and prayers.
Bossy always contemplates the fact that our pets can't decide for themselves when it's time to die. In the wild they starve themselves, separate from the pack, give up. Within the confines of our families and stringent guidelines they are powerless. Perhaps dear JoJo seized an opportunity. Fifteen is a very accomplished number.
Thank you, folks, for your kind and helpful words. Well, JoJo was nothing if not opportunistic. I'd like to think that she thought for herself right up until the end. She did so have that flair . . .
Oh Rena.
I'm speechless in empathy.
I am so sorry. People in church are often hesitant to share the death of a pet because it is so 'small' compared to what other people are experiencing. But the loss of a pet is the loss of unconditional love and companionship. Sometimes, it is more painful than the loss of a person. I know it seems crazy, but it is true. My heart is with you. Try not to be too hard on yourself.
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