An unnecessary death
From Karen Bean
Afton
His name was Caine. The beautiful German Shepherd dog you hit Jan. 21 out on REA Road. Caine. I thought you should know. He would be 8 years old this March ... a birthday present from my husband. I’m sure you didn’t notice, but he had the warmest brown eyes ... gentle, intelligent brown eyes. That unusually light-colored coat came from his mom ... she was white. That combined with the black and tan from his father to give him a beautiful creamy color, like the sand on a Georgia beach. Oh, and there was this perfect black diamond on his forehead ... our young grandson Blake loved to rub that diamond, as if it were some kind of lucky talisman. Blake called me that night to tell me how sad he was that Caine was gone.
“Caine was my most favorite dog when I was little, Grandma. I will miss him.”
Me too, buddy.
You might also be interested to know that Jett, the dog you did not hit, is doing pretty well. You drove on that afternoon, leaving Caine dying on the side of the road. Jett did not, would not, leave. He sat on the side of the road, keeping Caine company (probably long after he required company). He would not abandon his friend ... he remained there long after the warmth had left Caine’s body, long after the pain had ceased. He’s still a little bewildered by the absence of Caine. When he goes outside, he stands on the deck and looks around, as if to say “where are you?” When we return home in the afternoon, he runs to the fence to greet us as always ... only he looks back over his shoulder to see if Caine is following. And of course, he’s not.
Now, I realize that in the grand scheme of things, in the big picture that is life, the death of one dog is a small, insignificant matter. My husband and I have already begun the recovery process. We now reinforce the gate with a chain and lock. (We still can’t figure out how that gate was opened.) Our lives will go on, albeit a little more empty. Still, I can’t help but wonder if you might ever wonder – what if I had just slowed down a bit. REA Road is no busy thoroughfare, no high-speed interstate. It’s just a country road, most of the time deserted. What if you had just slowed down when you saw those dogs walking along the road. Where were you going that demanded such speed, such heartless speed? What if you had just slowed down...
