Sad, but true. Brylee Ann is gone. :-(

 Five years ago, when Colt and I were settling into being a married couple, we decided that before we could ever think about having a kiddo we needed to have a pet.

And not a cat-pet either—they’re just too self-sufficient—a dog-pet.

I grew up with small dogs. Pekingeses, Shih-tzus, and yorkies. Small dogs.

The husband grew up with big dogs. Boxers, bull dogs, and pit-bulls {which are actually American Staffordshire Terriers, for those who care to know!}.  

It was Christmas of 2007 when I decided that I would get Colt the kind of dog he wanted {I already had a cat back then that I called my own—a lovely one-eyed stray named Boone}.

My very best friend in the world, India, and her husband, Justin, happened to have raised American Staffordshire Terriers for a while back then, so I knew right where to look. {Since then they have had their female spayed.}

Getting someone a pet as a gift can sometimes many times almost always backfire, so I explained to Colt what I wanted to do. He was super stoked. With the craziness that is always the holidays, we didn’t get around to actually getting the puppy until early January. By then, India and Justin only had two left—a chocolate brown boy and a khaki/champagne colored girl.

We went over on a Saturday and looked at the two pups. We loaded the brown pup up into the car and began to back down the driveway. Just as we were beginning to turn around, I glanced back to India’s front porch. There sat the tiny pup, her back to me, with her face looking back over her shoulder. She had the poutiest look on her face I had ever seen.

We dumped the boy and snatched the girl.

Through the years we’ve taken Brylee everywhere with us; trips to Florida, fishing on the river, and especially playing out on the property. She loves the property. And she especially loves the pond for swimming.

 

Honestly, I should’ve known this was bound to happen. Brylee was just a big, dumb, precious dog. She knew no evil in her existence. Because we’ve lived on a dead-end street her entire life, she was used to cars driving slowly and stopping when she was in front of them. {Our neighbors adored her.}

We ironically thought that 10 acres would be perfect for her to run around on. We were wrong. 

On Friday, Brylee followed us down our super-long driveway to the small two-lane highway our new house is located on. It was dusk/almost-completely dark and she was extremely hard to see. I can only assume that she probably walked right out in front of a car. From the way I found her, she must’ve died on impact. It didn’t look like she lived long enough to even try to get up.

Since Wyatt and I had just driven into town to pick-up some things, I parked the car on the highway with my flashers on to keep people from hitting her/damaging their cars. Some lovely passers-by stopped {thinking I was having car trouble} and helped me get her off the road and into the ditch. My even lovelier neighbors drove down in their pick-up and brought her home for me {Colt had to pick-up some things from Home Depot after work}.

Colt buried her with Uncle Billy’s help the next day, but before that we rolled her in a tarp and hauled her to the top of the hill so Wyatt wouldn’t see her.

Honestly, he searched for her for most of the morning. With a handful of cheerios.

I could’ve died at the sight of that. Seeing my sweet little man holding his dog’s morning treat in his fist. Wondering where she is. And of course not understanding why she wasn't right on his tail like always.

I’m the first to say that she was just a dog. Dogs aren’t people. People are important. But when those cheerios ended up on the ground, it was like something in me broke.

My dog is dead. And I’m completely disgusted and disappointed. And I cried like a little girl.

:-(  MrsG