Yesterday we loaded up the kiddo and were headed to Plainfield to drop Colton off at Grandma’s so that Erin and I could go to the Kenny Chesney concert downtown, which we didn’t expect to get out of until 11 or 12PM, so Colton was going to have his first “overnighter” at Grandma’s house. Not 1/2 mile down the road, however, the day goes very sour. A small dog, what breed I’m not sure, darts out of a ditch right in front of our car. Erin yells, but it’s already too late. Thump… maybe even Thump Thump, I’m not sure. But it was a definate hit. Oh no. Oh no.

So we turn around and go back to check on him. He’s gone. There’s a pool of blood around his back end, eyes are open, no movement… Oh no. At least he didn’t suffer. So I move him off to the side of the road, and then we decide to go to the nearest house and see if it’s their dog. They’re not home. So we go to the next house, which was on the same driveway, and it’s actually the mother of the owner. She completely understanding… sad, but understanding. I ask her if she’d like me to leave it there or move it, and she says let’s put it in the barn so the owner family doesn’t have to find it laying on the side of the road. So she goes and gets the golf cart, and I go and get the dog. She takes him back to the barn, and we head off back into our world. I don’t think Colton even had a clue what happened, and that was good. Living on a state road ourselves, you know you need to be prepared for these occurances, but you really just can’t.

So we go on to see Kenny, another guy, Miranda, Sugarland, and Montgomery Gentry. Good concert – definately the longest I’ve ever been to, though! Started at 4 and got out at 11, and home around 1, thanks to traffic. I head out to take care of the horses for the night, and when I come in, Erin says, “Chet, you need to listen to the answering machine.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“Just listen.”

Ok… I can take it. It’s the guy who’s dog we hit. My heart sinks as the memory comes back:

“Yeah my name is Jeff B___, had the little accident with the dog today, I was just calling to thank you for helping out; a lot of people wouldn’t have done that. If you want to give me a call, he is uh, he’s still alive. We took him to the animal hospital. He’s got a pretty good chance of surviving; no broken bones or anything. My mom said you were kind of concerned, and I appreicate you helping out, and looks like he’s going to be ok, if he makes it through the next day or two. Thanks again for helping out.”

Wow. Still alive? No broken bones? Wow. Was I thinking of just leaving on the side of the road a few hours ago? How glad I am that we didn’t (Thanks Erin). The dog is alive. The dog doesn’t even have a stinkin’ broken bone!

So I called the people back today and spoke to the wife. She’s all thankful and everything and fills me in a little more on the dog. He must have gone into shocked or been knocked out, because according to the animal hospital, all he had was a bloody nose and a laceration on his hind end. No broken bones. No internal injuries. If you’d have seen the blood you’d have thought that alone would have killed him. But no. And then she tells me how they found out he was still alive.

The woman comes home after work, around noon (maybe 1/2 to 1 hour after the accident). She goes to the barn to see the dog, which the man’s mother left on the golf cart in the barn. She walks in, and there’s Franky, sitting on the cart, looking at her. What kind of reaction would that cuase? Laughter? Freaked out? A little of both? Wow. I just don’t know. I’m just so glad we stepped in and did what was right. It was a little awkward. A little painful. Even if it doesn’t “work out” this way next time, it’s one of those reminders. Doing the right thing is not based on circumstances. It’s not based on whether or not someone saw what happened, or if you can even do anything about it.

Anyways, that’s my story… another rock thrown on the pile.