Sunday, May 30, 2010

When a Dog Gets Too Friendly With Moving Vehicles

Okay, so I didn't update yesterday, but I was a little busy doing nothing. I get really caught up in nothing, you know.

First of all, this is my dog.

Cute, right? Too bad she has a disturbing fascination with all moving things. Like the cat. After 3 years of living with the cat, you'd think the novelty would wear off.

Yesterday, I was letting my dog back in the house after she was out on her dog run. It's like this zip-line thing with a leash attached to it so she can run around like a fool chasing birds and stuff. When she reaches the end of the line, sometimes she chokes herself. My family and I like to say it sounds a little something like "bada-bada-bada-bada-PING!"
Anyway, I was letting her in, and she usually runs into the house after I unhook the run from her collar. But today (yesterday) she just stopped in her tracks and ran the other direction before I could even react. I had just woken up because she was barking so much, so naturally I was a little annoyed.
"Fine, you stupid dog!" I said. "I was trying to be nice and let you in, but fine! You can get hit by a car for all I care!"

A little while later, we got a phone call. It was a neighbor calling to tell us that Lily was hit by a car.

And then my dad walked in, my panting dog in tow. According to our neighbor, she was hit by the car, was bowled over a few feet, then tore off towards my dad, who brought her home. The car wasn't going very fast, but our neighbor said it made a pretty loud thump, and after she saw it happen, our neighbor said she just went inside and cried (our neighbor is a very sweet old woman and I feel terrible for having in any way contributed to her shedding tears).

Naturally, we were all a bit concerned for our dimwitted furry friend. She had always been unafraid of cars-- whenever I'm out on a walk with her, I have to tighten my hold on the leash whenever a car comes by, because she moves like she wants to walk up to it and play with it, like she thinks they are very large, metal dogs. Capable of killing you. But Lily doesn't judge.
She sure doesn't judge me.We felt her hip (where she was struck) and found that it was swollen. However, Lily wasn't walking any differently and she wasn't even reacting when we pressed on the hip. We called the vet, just to be safe, but of course it was after noon and nobody was in. What a stupid system. Animals get sick after noon too, you know. We even tried holding an ice pack on it to bring down the swelling, but she just kind of looked at it like, "What are you doing? Now my leg is cold. I question the nature of your actions. May I please lick that cold thing?" so that didn't last long.

But I felt terrible. I kissed her head, and played with her velvety ears, and I told her I was so, so sorry, because it was all my fault. I had told her that she could get hit by a car for all I care, and then she had. And I cared.

Of course, Lily looked confused about all the affection. So I assumed she forgave me.

Lily's doing fine now, and running around like nothing happened, just like after she was hit. But I really hope she learned a lesson about those big metal dogs. If my mom were here as I was writing this, she would tell me not to forget to add that I learned a lesson too, about being careful what I wish for.
I forget what she's eating there.I think that goes without saying, though, and I hate it when people are preachy. Except preachers. Preachers can be as preachy as they want, because it's kind of in the job description.

Also, I need to not let my dog in right after I get up. My reaction time sucks.

This is what I felt like that morning.

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