A girl and her dog

My first dog was some type of terrier mix breed.  She had stringy black hair.  My brother had asthma and severe allergies so she was a great dog for him.  She did not shed because she didn't have soft fur but coarse dog hair.  She looked like a black Toto from the Wizard of Oz although her hair may have been a little longer and I think she was a little bigger.  Her name was Minnie.

She was pretty old by the time I was even born.  That didn't stop me from treating her like a doll.  I would try to put doll clothes on her and hug her like a teddy bear.  I felt very attached to Minnie.  She was a part of the family since the day I was born.  I never new life without her. 

When I was around 6 or 7 she began to show her aging.  She couldn't hear very well anymore and I think she was loosing some site too.  She started having accidents around the house more and more often.  One day my sister Marie was cleaning the house and poor Minnie had an accident.  Marie was very angry with Minnie.  She yelled at Minnie and gave her a spanking.  I remember Minnie running behind the couch.  Marie was upset, she made Minnie go outside.  She yelled, "You're supposed to pee outside!" 

My Aunt and Uncle were over the house visiting.  They were talking with my parents in the kitchen.  My mother was smoking like a chimney.  She was a terrible smoker.  I always begged her to quit.  It was dark out and I was in the kitchen with the adults being nosey as to what they were up to.  I think they may have been playing cards. 

It must have been pretty late in the evening as we were surprised at a knock at our back door.  There was a lot of fuss as to who it was so late in the evening.  My Dad went outside to talk with the man and the news quickly filled the house.  He had hit Minnie with his car.  The great man came and knocked on our door to tell us.  It must have taken so much courage to do such a thing.  To this day I don't know if I know of any many personally who after hitting a family pet would try to contact and confess his dead to the pet owners family.  If these words ever reach your eyes dear gentlemen, thank you.  So many would have just driven away. 

Poor Minnie was still alive.  They just described to me that part of her flesh was off her face.  Her eye was popped out and it wasn't pretty.  I cried and cried.  I begged and pleaded with my mother to let me see her.  She refused and told me that it was too much for me.  I understand my mother wanting to protect me from the sorrow of seeing my beloved Minnie in such pain and in the grotesque state that she was in.  I really needed to see her though.  I needed my closure with her.  They decided since she was so old that it would be best to put her to sleep.  I wept and mourned over her disappearance for years. 

I remember when we moved from that home when I was 9 I was afraid.  I thought that someday Minnie would come back to that house looking for us and we'd be gone.  I thought that she really wasn't dead, but she had just got lost.  I know it's silly but I was 9.  I remember hearing a Dolly Parton song "Here you come again, and here I go" I don't know all the words but I cried to those words.  I pictured Minnie coming home to me and being sad that I wasn't there to receive her.  How would she ever know where to find me now.  "Minnie!  Come home!  Hurry before we move!"

I feel terrible for poor Marie.  I know she loved Minnie too.  I know she felt a lot of guilt and regret for being the one who let Minnie out in the first place.  Poor thing to have on her mind the last memory her her with Minnie was her yelling and chastising her.  Poor Marie!