I told my friend I left the door open. I made it sound like that was an accident. I don’t know what for, because I told her before that that it was my fault. Before we left I said, “We’re going out!” Which always gets – well, got – her super excited. I basically called her to her death. This morning when I came home she was beside herself with excitement, which she always is – well, was, anyway. I held her while I was typing the previous entry. She hated that.

I’ve grown up not gradually but in leaps and bounds. I took a tremendous leap and bound when I noticed that she looked at me as though I could protect her from anything. She thought that as long as I was near, nothing could ever hurt her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t run from the car. She’s run away from home countless times before and always returned unscathed.

My back was turned. There were headlights. There was a tiny yelp and a tiny crunch. She was under the left front wheel. The driver of the car reversed off her body. I stood in the headlights and screamed. Her legs twitched a few times and then she was still. I fell to my knees and crawled towards her body and screamed and screamed. The people in the car got out, I think a man and woman. The maid and her daughter came out of the house. My mom was on the phone. I screamed while everyone was trying to talk to me. Tears were coming out of my eyes and snot out of my nose and saliva out of my mouth and dripping on The road and her poor fur. The left side of her head was crushed into the ground. Her right eye was staring up. I closed it. Her body was warm. I knelt and stroked her fur and screamed. The maid got a towel. I carried her into the house, her head cradled in my arm just like when she was alive, except through all the snot and tears I could see the mess of her crushed head and her blood covering my arm. I put her on the tiles wrapped in the towel, and screamed some more but softer and softer until I was just sobbing. I was holding her tiny paw and rubbing her tiny cheek and her ear sticking out of the towel. The maid’s daughter was sitting beside me and crying also. In that time, her body turned from warm to cold. I felt like I was going to die, but I have felt like that many times before and I never died. I wanted to hug my girlfriend but she still has trouble feeling and picking up on my feelings. I went upstairs and went to my room and locked the door. I called my girlfriend and we talked. As I expected she didn’t pick up on it very well. I called my ex, thinking that she knows all about death, but she didn’t pick up. I called my best friend, whom I fired from the position of best friend for not seeing me on my birthday, and we talked. I called Red who was in class and she went out. I told her all about the twitching and the screaming and she said that it wasn’t my fault even though I totally knew it was.

She was 5, which is 35 in dog years. she hasn’t even had any children. I never took her to the beach. When I was gonna be a famous wakeboarder she was gonna ride in the boat with a tiny life jacket on.

This evening before she died I gave her a leftover hotdog piece. She took the hotdog and left the bun on the floor. But she ate it when I picked it up and gave it to her from my hand.

She didn’t run from the car because she thinks – thought – that as long as I’m near nothing can ever hurt her. She wasn’t looking out because she thought I was looking out for her. She’s dead because she trusted me. Well, that’s just a fact. I’m taking some dangerous-drugs-prescription-only sedative tonight and Prozac daily instead of 3x a week for a while.

I don’t know what we’ll do with the body but it isn’t very important to me because I know it isn’t her anymore. They talked to her but I thought it was dumb.

I don’t know when I’ll ever earn another being’s trust like that ever again. I don’t know if I would deserve it.

Tonight might be the last time I got to try being a mom to someone. Her blood is dry on my clothes.

Everyone is sad and it’s my fault.


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