...gone. She was hit by a car tonight. The car didn't even stop -- it just left her and drove off. She died soon after, and my mom called me right away. She was with us for nine years, and now she's gone. She won't be there when I go home at Christmas. I can't take her into the back yard and run around in the snow like we always used to.
I still remember holding her in my arms the day my dad brought her home. I was fourteen, and she was so tiny. She curled up against my chest with her head tucked under my chin, while I sat cross-legged on the living room floor for nearly an hour. It was a good thing nobody claimed her; I was in love.
Not a good start to the week.
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