October 18
My nephew phoned me at the store this afternoon to tell me that Mo, one of the two family dogs, had been hit by an automobile and was being taken by a neighbor to the veterinarian. "I called mom at work," he said. "She's coming home but she told me to call you 'cause you're closer." The matter-of-fact tone of his voice was eerily out of place when measured against his message. In the background I could hear his sister weeping.
I closed up the store and drove the five minutes over to the house. On the way I formulated my plan. The children were going to expect the first adult to arrive to have one. I decided I'd call the vet from the house and see what condition Mo was in -- whether it was worthwhile carting the children over there or whether it would be best to wait. That's as far as my planning got when my eyes started to well up with sadness. I hoped the puppy wasn't badly hurt. Came close to praying about it.
Josh and Betsy were both outside when I pulled the car down their long rutted driveway. I hadn't yet turned off the engine when I learned from Josh that Mo didn't make it.
"He died on the way to the vet, so Mr. Kendell brought him back," Josh told me. "He's behind the house. There wasn't no blood before, but now there's some comin' from his nose." Brownish stains on the front of the boy's sweatshirt was evidence that the puppy'd been cradled.
I stepped out of the car and gathered both children in my arms, which were not as versed as their mother's in comforting them. But I held them tight and close anyway, almost trying to squeeze the pain out of their small bodies.
Betsy backed away first. "You know, Mo followed me on my bike and when I came back he stayed over there by the edge of the road. Josh told me I better go get him. That he could get hit by a car. He said that! Those were his words!" The poor child choked on the tears she could no longer swallow and her chest heaved trying to find a full breath.
"I told him Mo would be fine. That he'd come back to the house on his own. And then it happened and I heard Mo yowling. This is my fault! I did this!" She screamed the words at me. Her young face was wrecked by guilt.
When I shifted my eyes to catch Josh's reaction to his older sister's
confession I was stopped short. Somewhere inside he understood that our
heartache, his and mine, would eventually fade some. He looked for no comfort
from me, instead his gaze pleaded for me to heal his sister's suffering.
I didn't know how to tell him that I am a mere mortal.
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