November 16, 1998
Writer wants to say, "I'm sorry"
Remember how dark it was that night! There were no street lights, no moon. You just wanted to play. And then I came around the corner. Those tires you challenged were mine. It was so dark, Curly, I didn't see you. I could hear you barking, and I slowed to a crawl trying to see you in the darkness. Thump. You yelped. More barking and in my side mirror a glimpse of furry motion. In the dark and my panic, I fought to open the car door. I could just make you out in the distant dark street, barking, barking, barking. Somewhat relieved, in retrospect, that you seemed intact, I knelt in the road hoping to encourage you to come to me so I could apologize for our encounter and maybe soothe you. You wanted no part of me, so I left.
Later I learned you and your brother both came out to play with me last night. It was you who yelped but your brother who barked at me while you suffered silently to die beneath the bushes at the side of the road.
I grieve because you were a youngster who shouldn't have been allowed to play outside at night. I grieve because a little girl loved you. I regret deeply that your human wasn't able to keep you secure. I hope you didn'tsuffer long, Curly. I'm so sorry.
Name withheld by request