Sometimes, I wish I could drive with blindfolds or at least blinders on, like old carriage horses wear. This morning, with the children in the car, we were heading out. At the red light I saw something laying on the road further ahead. I was supposed to make a left turn at the light, but instead I drove forward. I had to see, was it a dog laying in the street?
A big beautiful stray (like a Border Collie) was run over by a car. She was dead.
I hate seeing these big dogs laying in the middle of the street and all cars are passing by. Olivia always gets upset when she sees one, and I am telling you the truth, we see it every day. It is killing my heart. Whenever we spot one, my biggest fear is that they are still alive and suffering slowly.
So what did I do? I stopped of course. On with the warning lights and out checking on her. In the car again and grabed a big blanket, rolled her in and lifted her up from the middle of the street and placed her as gently as I could in the median. At least her shell would not be further asaulted, I knew her soul was already across Rainbow Bridge. Cars passed slowly by, watching this blonde woman carrying a dead dog!
A man in garden-worker clothing headed my way and I could see on his face that he didn't like what I had just done. And I could see he didn't like a dead dog in the grass were he was on his way to cut! He was from Algeria and absolutely did not want to touch a dead dog--not an alive one either!
I told him that poor Italian children shouldn't have to see dead animals on their way to school, and cars could get blood on their newly washed sides. He liked that explanation, in his eyes, maybe I wasn't a crazy blonde animal activist (heh).
For him, I was Amore!
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