Saturday morning started out just like any other Saturday morning; sleeping just a tad bit later than usual, fixing breakfast and getting ready for a football game. We were out the door and headed to a short practice before going to one of our only out of town games. It was a cool and cloudy morning and we were looking forward to a fun day. Halfway to practice I realized I had forgotten my camera; no big deal, there will be other games. Once we got there we also remembered we had forgotten the stripes for one of boys helmets. I offered to go back home to get the stripes and bonus: my camera too. I left K and her friend with R and the team headed back home...
The first thing I saw when I pulled in the driveway were the dogs running to greet me. This is the same every time I or anyone else pulls into the drive. I always slow down, make sure I can see the dogs and sometimes even roll my window down and scold them for getting too close to the car. I'm not sure what happened, but as I turned the wheel to pull under the carport I heard Little Bit yelp. Instinctively I knew what had happened and it wasn't good. I didn't know what to do. Do I back up or pull forward. For a second I was paralyzed. I put the car in park, opened the door and hollered for her. No response. It took all I had in me to get out of my vehicle but I did. I had to.
There she was lying motionless about 8 feet behind the Tahoe...gone.
About this time my phone rang and it was R calling to tell me to get his coaches badge he had forgotten. I answered the phone in tears not knowing what to do next. He said he would be right home. About 10 minutes later him and a friend were there giving Bitsy a proper burial.
My heart was just broken. I dreaded telling the kids (which we decided would be better done the next day after they got home from Nana and Pappy's house.) I had to pull it together because R had a football game to play and I knew he wouldn't be able to if he knew something was wrong.
The thought crossed our minds to tell the kids that we found her at the road...I couldn't do it. This may sound silly, but the thought of keeping the truth from the kids for the rest of my life was not acceptable. The truth is always best. I knew they would be mad at me, but I also knew they would eventually realize there was nothing I could have done to prevent this from happening. If there was, I would have done it.
The next day after church we picked the kids up and headed home. My stomach was in knots and became worse with every mile we came closer to the house. Well, the moment of truth had arrived. We took the kids to the spot that has quickly become our very own pet cemetery. They saw the little cross R had made with Little Bit's name on it and asked very calmly what happened. We explained, they started crying and the grieving process began.
As I suspected, R was mad at me at first. K just sat in my lap for about an hour crying. It's a crazy thing to see your children go through the stages of grief in a matter of minutes. We encourage the tears. Tears heal broken hearts. Never have we told our kids to stop crying. After the tears stopped falling, we went outside, I pushed K on the swing, we jumped on the trampoline and loved on the furry family we still have.
We're going to miss Bitsy around here. Everywhere I look I see things that remind me of her. I'm going to miss her when I do my sprint intervals. She never quit; while Sam might run one and then just watch, she was in for the duration of the workout. Although we only had her for a short time, we loved her very much. Our pets are like family...
Yesterday I was walking back to the house after taking a bag of trash out and one of the men who work for us asked me about Bitsy. I explained to him what happened and he said, "She was a good little dog. We're going to miss her." Yes...we are.