Treasure

She was lying in the street

at the foot of the Siddon’s driveway

frozen in my young memory

forever

exactly this way.

Her little puppy eyes were shut

and a plastic bag with her blood on it

still in her mouth;

treasure

from her early morning escape.

I never looked at that stupid gate

the same again ~

I didn’t know

puppies could squeeze themselves

so thin,

just to run away

in search of

treasure.

* Part of the beauty of allowing children the richness of owning a pet are the resultant natural lessons learned in cause and effect. Being responsible about feeding and care is one thing, and experiencing loss is an inevitable heartbreak some people, (usually adults) can’t seem to deal with. I have even encountered those who lied to their children about the untimely demise of “Fluffy” or “Tweetie”, feeling the truth was far too painful. I know that when a creature snuggles into your heart, all the things that define that one relationship are valuable exactly as they are, even if it is less than ideal. Some things hurt so sweetly you never want to forget.

“Dixie” was a little black and white puppy, who, along with her brown brother “Wags” got out from our back yard via the gap between the house and the chain link gate. They were our first dogs that I can remember, and we didn’t have them very long before this incident. The funny thing is, Jellico Avenue was hardly a busy street. Most of our traffic seemed exclusive to people from the neighborhood. I have always wondered who the ‘outsider’ was that carelessly ran over a little dog one morning on their way to work.

We never saw Wags again.

*from 'Station Wagon Wars-growing up in the 60's' by cTanner