Hans

Sometimes when all else fails, writing it down helps to let it go, to release something that other wise would stay bottled up. Yesterday I ran over our puppy. It's hard for me to say it, harder for me to tell people and harder to realize myself the destruction I did to our dog. It was very traumatic, night marish, surreal almost. I still don't understand why he ran under the tire or how I did it. Or what purpose this stands, what lesson this is suppose to teach me. I believe everything happens for a reason, and sometimes we don't understand the reason, but for the life of me I can't figure out what good or lesson could be learned from this. Replaying it in my mind gives me the chills. Hans annoyed me at times and mad me so mad, but I didn't realize how much I loved him or would miss him being around until now when that is a real possibility. I went home at lunch, to feed Hans, and let momma kitty Shane out. I fed Hans tried to get him to calm down and sit, scratched him under his neck, which is his favorite spot and then got in the car to leave. I backed up slowly, watching for Hans because he always get so close to the car and then put it in drive to leave. He always follows the car but usually stops right at or before the cattle guard, but not yesterday. I crossed it, didn't see him and started to go and then I heard and felt the worst thing ever. I knew immediately I had hit him, it's kinda like I blacked out for a minute just hoping and praying that some how he would be limping off. I stopped the car open the door and saw him lying there yelping. I ran over to him and could tell he was hurt bad, I thought his back was broken because he wouldn't move his legs. I thought I could pick him up and put him in the car and get him to the vet, but I tried to pick him up and he bit me, I know it hurt me trying to move him. Then he started bleeding from his mouth and he pooped on his self and I started to freak out. I am usually calm in situations like this, but not yesterday. I started screaming and crying hysterically and needed help from someone. I tried calling Fred but it went to voicemail, frantically I thought who else could I call. I tried calling Roy but it was like a bad dream, the phone wouldn't dial, I couldn't see which button to push to make it go thru. It's weird trying to recall everything because I can't really remember the sequence of everything. I called Fred again or he called me, anyways I was trying to get him to come help, but he couldn't hear me, he couldn't understand. I just wanted him there, I needed someone to help me. Fred was on his way and I sit there with Hans, trying to console him and he laid his head down on the pavement, I thought he was dying. After what seems like hours waiting, watching for Fred to arrive he got there. We didn't want to hurt Hans anymore so Fred laid his vest down and we put Hans on it and we carried him to the truck. That truck ride to the vets seemed like forever, no one would move over and Hans wasn't moving his back legs, he was bleeding all over the truck. Fred called Doc on the way and we were informed Doc wouldn't be there for a couple of hours, I chose to still go there, because Doc is caring and very good at what he does. Once at the vets, they wanted to weigh Hans and I couldn't stand it, I just wanted them to help him, not weigh him. They assessed him and gave him so pain meds and all we could do was leave and wait to hear from the vet. As of this morning Hans is doing ok, his lungs are hurt pretty bad, his left is only functioning at 20% and his right at 70%. He has a bad cut on his leg into the joint. Doc would operate on the leg, but his lungs won't hold up, so his leg will just have to heal on it's own for right now. Said he could walk and was eating.