D – Dog
On Christmas Eve, 2001, my dog Max was struck and killed by a shiny, black, four-door car. My aunt had been airing out the house, a process which involved opening most of the doors, so as to let out the smell of cooking, which was very, very strong. She had put Max on a leash and let her out into the back yard so that she wouldn’t escape out the front (with all the open doors). However, after a few minutes my grandmother, not noticing the open doors, let the dog in. Right after being freed from her harness, Max bolted straight through the kitchen and out the door. We all immediately ran outside after her. Afterwards, I remember I managed to hold it together for a surprisingly long time, almost Zen-like. We put the body in a container and had a small funeral in the backyard.
-next post May 20 @ 8:oo pm
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