A dog died in my car tonight. I am so fucked up right now. I was driving home from a date, I was having a happy day, I bought a cool new shirt and a silver wrist cuff, my writing has been kicking ass lately, I had a beer and a salad and I was well, happy. And then I see a dog in the road ahead. It was a large, yellow dog that looked I swear to GOD like my dog, Sam. The one I had when I was a teenager, and the one I think I will always love and miss, no matter how many other dogs I have in my life--he's the ultimate dog, in my mind. Anyway, I stopped my car and put on the hazards and tried to catch him--put him in my car to try to save him so he wouldn't get hit. Only I was too late. As I tried to get him to follow me into my car, he all the sudden bolted into the other lane of traffic and I saw him get hit. Have you ever seen a dog get hit by a car? He FLEW. It made a thump. The car had tried to stop but it was too late. The dog flew... he skidded, and slid. He was screaming. God help me, right now. He was screaming.

I don't know. I just panicked. I ran across the road and other cars had stopped, including the guy who had hit him. It was so terrible... the dog actually got up and ran into an alley. i thought that was a good sign. If he could move he wasn't hurt too bad, maybe. Me and some other people followed him and someone had a blanket. Me, the guy and this other girl loaded him into the back of my car. He wasn't bleeding or anything. The girl knew where an emergency vet clinic was, but it was about 15-20 minutes away. We headed off, and the poor dog lay in the back of my car, not moving a lot, but still breathing and we figured, probably in shock. Gosh, I kept petting him over the seat and telling him he was a good boy. I prayed and wondered why this had to happen, you know? Like, this dog was just fine one minute, and then fucking flying through the air and screaming a second later. And now we were trying to race him to the vet to save his life. He had no tags on and we couldn't call an owner, obviously.

We got to the vet, and I knew he wasn't alive anymore. He wasn't responding to my touch at all, and when I ran around and opened the car door his eyes were open and blood was everywhere on his face. I guess he had internal bleeding. I shook him and yelled at him, still calling him a good boy... FUCK! It was terrible. We carried him into the vet, blood was everywhere at that point, and the vet said there was no heartbeat. Too fucking late.

Honestly, this is a nightmare of mine. I have actually had this nightmare. I have always prayed I wouldn't see an animal get killed like that. I didnt think I had the balls to take it, you know? I am such a huge animal lover, as anyone who fucking reads this blog knows. I can't believe this, and I feel so helpless. I tried so, so hard to save this poor dog, who was probably a good dog because he was a collie mixed with a golden retriever-- just like Sam. I mean seriously, that's the other part I can't get over in the slightest. He looked fucking exactly like my dog. And the last time I saw my dog was when he died on the vet's table when we put him to sleep. I still have these horrible thoughts of how he sighed, and his eyes stayed looking at me right until he died. This, what happened tonight, is too much of a reminder of the suckiest thing I ever had to do. It is too much. I seriously can't believe this shit.

You know, you just drive around and you don't look. Who looks around, really? You don't react fast enough, and things like this happen. It could have been me. I could have hit him and made him fly through the air and scream. How clueless are we, 99% of the time, really? We just go about our day, not really realizing how close we come to being killed or killing. It blows my mind. This is not cool. At least this poor dog died in a quiet car, on a blanket, and not in the road, and he didn't get hit twice or something. But what if someone is looking for that dog right now? What was his name? Are they going to put up lost dog signs; and if I see one I know I will have to call and tell them what happened because I sure as hell would want to know what happened to my dog. Still. This was an ordinary night. Totally fun and happy day. And just like that I am all fucked up now. Isn't that just the fucking bitch of it all? Don't you hate that? Don't you want to punch a hole through a wall over the insane randomness of it all? Ah, fuck.

Normally I wouldn't post this stuff here, but this blog has sort of taken on its own form and I feel like sharing this with you all who read this. I write funny and I love this blog for its outlet-giving powers, you know? And I need it tonight. I need to grieve for a dog I didn't know, but died quietly in my backseat only three or four minutes before we pulled up to the vet hospital. He was a good dog, and he is gone and I couldn't save him. I would have done anything in those minutes from the moment I tried to coax him into my car until we pulled up to get him to safety and patch him up and save his life. I save things. I do that. I have taken in strays, and gotten dogs back into their yards safely. And this is the first one I couldn't. It sucks so fucking much. Any advice you have to try to get bad images out of your head so you can sleep and drive down the road where you saw something that sucked like this, send it, I fucking need it.