Bake Sales And Dead Dogs

It was a crisp day in October in East Tennessee - one of those perfect fall days. Not too cold, not too hot. I was driving home from a day out, and my little chihuahua was in the dog kennel in the passenger seat next to me. He goes everywhere I go, and that's just the way it's supposed to be.

My little Paco and I went grocery shopping and visited a coffee shop, and I am absolutely sure there had been more. But we were almost home. Driving through the little rural town that leads to the home stretch of my home, I had almost made it to the stop light - but not quite.

I had looked down for just a second at the kennel in my passenger seat to make sure my companion who was as old as I am was okay. When my eyes slid back up I barely had time to register the big brown body that ran full speed off of the sidewalk in front of my car.

I remember trying to stop. I think the tires squealed. I felt the impact and the car jerk. Panicking I got out of the car and ran to the front. I don't remember how I got on the ground, or how I got covered in blood. I just know I couldn't breathe and I could hear someone screaming in anguish. I lost track of the cars that had stopped behind me. I was on my knees in front of the car, engine running, staring at the large brown pitbull that lay dead in front of me.

I killed him. I killed it. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry!

Someone was yelling these words, and I couldn't figure out who was doing it as I tried to pet the dog and comfort it. But... my hands are covered in blood. I pull them up to look at them, confused. Why is there blood? Suddenly a cream-silken sheet flew into my vision, settling over the dog's corpse, and blocking my view of it. Hands reached out and gently grabbed mine, closing my fingers and gently helping my hands curl into a fist, and then the hands covered my own, completely blocking them.

"Hey. Hey! Are you okay? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Her voice cut into the loud roar of my heartbeat and the voice that kept screaming in panic stopped as I took in a sharp breath. Tears were streaming out of my eyes, my chest and head were hurting. I couldn't breathe. "You are okay now, I'm here. Everything is going to be okay, Ma'am. But I need to know if you're hurt." Her voice was calm, her brown eyes held my own with intention, and I couldn't look away from her face.

"I'm so sorry! I killed him. I didn't mean to! He ran out in front of me! It was so fast, I couldn't stop!" The words that left my mouth made me realize the one who had been screaming was...me. Another woman was here with me I realized now, at my side. Her hand was on my shoulder, her other rubbing my back gently. I blinked at the two women who had come to my aid, confused and numb.

They were both stooped over the dog with me, the brunette holding my hands gently, the blonde rubbing my back. I let the sobs jerk from my chest as I began to howl again. Guilt. It was going to crush me. This poor dead dog.

"Let's start by getting the dog out of the road, and unblock this traffic." The brunette said, and she let go of my hands and began to gently fold the sheet around the dog I had run over. I began to cry harder, helpless taken with my own guilt. I had killed this poor thing, and that's all I could think about as the blond woman helped me to my feet. She took me over to the sidewalk. "I'm going to park your car for you, right here in the library parking lot, okay?"

I nodded numbly, my eyes watching as the brunette picked up the massive dog corpse with a bit of a grunt, and brought it to the grass in front of the sidewalk. My eyes went to the road where he had been lying, gasping at the giant puddle of blood that had soaked into the asphalt. I began to wail again as a fresh surge of guilt and pain racked my body, and my chest began to hurt. The blonde was in my car, pulling it out of the road for me and the brunette came back to me.

She put her arm around me, her eyes sad and worried.

"I love dogs. I didn't mean to. I have a dog. He's in the car. A chihuahua. I would never hurt a dog on purpose." I heard myself rambling to her, the fear, guilt, and sorrow still crushing me. I couldn't function. All I could do was feebly defend myself.

"That dog has been hanging around here for several weeks. I've seen him run out in front of people several times... I think maybe he was sick and was in pain, and he was trying to escape. I tried to catch him several times, but he was so scared of me he would never come. I don't think this was your fault. Come on, come to my shop. We will get you cleaned up,"

My eyes were on the blood stain again and I couldn't move. Maybe this woman sensed it, but after the blonde gave me back my keys. They quickly talked about talking to someone named Missy. I listened to the best of my ability, but all I could make out was both women were associated with the humane society somehow. The brunette gently turned me by my shoulders when the other women left.

"Come on..." She said gently. She led me to the new thrift shop in town that I had been meaning to stop by for some time now. She was having a bake sale. She took me inside, turned on the water in the sink for me, and poured Dawn dish soap into my hands. I scrubbed them until the water burnt my hands.

She grabbed a small blanket she probably meant to sell and wrapped it around my shoulders after she led me to the chair, and pulled it tight. It was only then I realized my whole body was trembling. I pulled the blanket tighter around me and cried softly while she brewed me a cup of tea from the coffee maker she had in there, and handed me a brownie from her cute little bake sale she had going on outside.

"I'm raising money for the angel tree I want to do for Christmas!" She explained when I blinked at the little pop-up stand that had beautiful bright baked goods displayed.

It took a moment for me to process it. The corpse was still in front of the library, a little way down the street.

"My dog is in the car... I need to check on him. I need to get home...I need to...the dog..."

"Don't worry! Listen. I'm going to take care of it for you. I know the vet in town. I'm going to take him there. They will make sure he gets put to rest safely." She said.

"But, I did it. You don't have to-"

"Listen.... you said your dog is in the car?" She interrupted me gently, reaching forward and taking my now clean hands again, she gave them a gentle squeeze and her fingers were so warm in the cold crisp air. "So. I'm going to walk you to him, to your car. And I want you to give that puppy the biggest hug. Because he's the only one that's going to be able to tell you that it's not your fault. These things happen. And I think that dog was in pain or sick, and did it on purpose. I've watched him try for weeks. You didn't hurt him. He didn't suffer. He was dead on impact. You are okay. You are still a good person. And you haven't done anything wrong. It was an accident. And maybe it was even mercy."

She walked me to my car, and she gave me the biggest, warmest hug I've EVER gotten before I got into my car to go home. When I turned my vehicle onto the street, she was carrying the blood-covered sheet and the mass within it to her car. She was carrying him gently, like a mother holding a child.

I knew she was going to make sure that he was shown the love that the puppy had always deserved by the way she cradled him lovingly in her arms.

Thank goodness for bake sales and kind strangers.