"So Let it Be Written... So Let it Be Done"

The life and times of a real, down to earth, nice guy. A relocated New Englander formerly living somewhere north of Boston, but now soaking up the bright sun of southwestern central Florida (aka The Gulf Coast). Welcome to my blog world. Please leave it as clean as it was before you came. Thanks for visiting, BTW please leave a relevant comment so I know you were here. No blog spam, please. (c) MMV-MMXV Court Jester Productions & Bamford Communications

Saturday, June 21, 2008

dead weight is heavier than it looks

About an hour ago the blue lights of a police cruiser came on just as it was passing by my parent's house. Instead of proceeding up the hill it stopped in front of the house next door and across the street.

In this peaceful neighborhood, police cruisers are rarely seen. Its presence here must not mean anything good has happened. As I sat at my computer looking out the window facing the street, I saw the lights go on and wondered what the problem might be. I thought about getting up and going outside to see what all the hullabaloo was about.

As I was soon to find out, there was a hit and run here tonight. The victim likely died instantly when the car struck, alive one minute and a pile of meat lying on the street the next.

My brother A had the nicest, most mild mannered dog you could possibly want. She was a big, friendly dog named Tasha, a Rottweiler-German Shepherd mix. Tasha had a nice dog house and run in the back yard and was leashed there most of the time, except when A would come home in the evening from work and untie her. She spent most of the day sleeping in the shade under his truck during the heat of the day and was tied up until about an hour or so ago, I guess.

She was always willing to go fetch a ball you had thrown and was always eager to be scratched behind the ears or patted or just shown some love and attention. Really a wonderful dog.

As you probably have guessed by now, Tasha was the victim tonight. Never knew what hit her. Poor dog. At least she didn't suffer.

When I was called outside to the news, I was shocked. Tasha often wanders up and down the street, usually having enough sense to move out of the way when a car approaches.

At night it's a whole different story. Since Tasha's fur was mainly black with some minor brown highlights, if a car is traveling a bit too fast on the street or if the driver is not paying attention, things like this can happen. I'm guessing the hit and run vehicle was a pickup truck or an SUV with a higher wheel base and line of sight for the driver. With a bigger vehicle, the driver may not have seen the big black dog in the street. Plus, Tasha was an older dog and likely losing her hearing and possibly some vision. The officer told me he would search the neighborhood, looking for passenger side front end damaged vehicles and would let us know if the investigation turns up anything. I doubt we'll ever know.

The police officer also asked me where the dog's owner was and I told him that I had no idea. I jogged down the street to A's girlfriend's house and asked her if she had seen him. She said no and sounded quite upset at him for reasons I don't care about. His motorcycle was back in her shed and his truck was in the gravel driveway next to my parent's house. But where was A? He was not in his room because I looked. He had to be close since his vehicles were both accounted for.

I was told by the officer that A would have options in dealing with the carcass. Either Animal Control can come and take it away or he can take care of the carcass himself. He'll deal with it later.

My dad and I got an old quilt from the basement and placed Tasha's body on it. We carried the carcass into my parents yard and up onto the porch and covered it with the quilt until A could be found.

I went inside because V and M were in bed, calling for me and wondering loudly what was happening. I quickly told them what happened and they were saddened by the news as we all are.

I grabbed my cell phone and went outside to try and call A's cell. No answer.

Then I saw it coming from A's truck. Saw the orange glow of a burning cigarette and followed it. Turns out A was sitting in his truck the whole time the cruiser was on the street when the lights were flashing. Sitting in his truck drunk, stoned or possibly both. When I told him his dog was dead he barely understood what I was saying. When I told him again he just mumbled something about pirates. When I told him a third time he said it didn't matter, and that Tasha would be fine in the morning. Definitely in no condition to process information like this.

So I walked away, disgusted.

About fifteen minutes later I walked back to A and he was leaning over the steering wheel looking like he was asleep, probably realizing what I had told him minutes earlier. This time I told him that I would unlock the bulkhead for him so when he felt like it he could come inside and go to bed. No response.

Once I unlocked the bulkhead, I walked back toward him and told him it was all set. he bulkhead was closed but unlocked and the basement door was also unlocked.

A told me to f- off and to get the f- out of here.

So I did.


Before I went to sleep, I saw A in the back yard near Tasha's dog house, having his private mourning in whatever way he could in his alcohol induced state. He had dragged the body into the back yard, maybe intending to bury it. Who knows what he was thinking.

This morning, my dad and A carried Tasha for one last ride in A's truck. They took her to an animal hospital in the next town that does more than your typical vet's office can do. There A decided to have the dog cremated but he didn't want the ashes back. So Tasha will be part of a mass cremation and her ashes will be disposed of somehow.

Truly a sad, inglorious ending to the life of a beloved pet.

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At 22 June, 2008 08:03, Blogger lccb81 said...

I know (from personal experience) that there is a lot more to that whatever than can be written. I'm sorry about Tasha and about A.

At 22 June, 2008 09:50, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Aww green, I'm so sorry. This was a tough post for you I'm sure.

At 23 June, 2008 06:56, Blogger DaBich said...

Poor Tasha.

I don't know what A's problem is, but I hope he gets his act together.

Like lccb, I also feel there is a lot more here, but sometimes it's better left...alone.

Hugz to you all for your loss.

At 26 June, 2008 20:07, Blogger Esther said...

Like your other posters, Green, I am so, so sorry.

I just read this post, and I didn't know. I am truly sorry.

I wonder if part of A's grief was the possibility that he may have hit Tasha. I'm sorry that he acted that way toward you, Green. I'm sure it was, in fact, the alcohol (or whatever) talking and not him.

You are so good with animals that the loss has to be hard for you as well.

Once again, Green, I am so very sorry about this.

At 26 June, 2008 21:19, Blogger green said...

everyone: Even though she was not my dog, losing her was rough especially the way it happened, hit and run style.

I douby the police will ever find out who did it. The dog desrved a better fate than that. Such a mild mannered, friendly dog. Such a shame. I wish I had a picture of her to post.


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