2By Charlan
"Oh! She's beautiful!" I exclaimed. I held the small, scared, black dog on my 8-months pregnant belly.
"I picked out the prettiest one." April, my mom's friend said happily.
April discovered these puppies from a neighbor. If they all didn't get adopted out, they'd be sent to the pound.
"She is perfect." I stared into the eyes of the small pit bull mixed puppy. "Her and Jeana will grow up together."
I rubbed my belly. Jeana, my 8-month old, in-utero daughter, was due April 1, 2003. I imagined her at age 3, chasing after our two puppies. The other puppy, Wags, was a cute black and white beagle. Everyone warned me about getting a pit bull and having a baby. They said I was crazy.
"Don't you know they are violent dogs?" Came the collective cry. "They could snap at any moment."
I looked into the newly dubbed Willow's chocolate eyes. No, I decided they were wrong. In the months that passed she continued to prove them wrong. James and I showed her love, and she loved us back, unconditionally. She was only four months old when her life ended suddenly.
June 18 2003
Today, at 11:15 AM, with Jeana in my arms, I walked outside onto the back porch to watch James leave for work. Willow and Wags were, as usual, trying to get in the house, and I, as usual, kept shooing them back with my foot. I continued to watch the car disappear through the trees, just a white blur, and walked back into the house with Jeana. I thought to myself that later this afternoon, I should come outside and play with the dogs. I felt bad for not being able to play with them as much, but I had to take care of Jeana. I did come out later at around 4:00 PM to walk to the mailbox at the end of the road. I strapped Jeana in her stroller, and Wags followed us. I thought it was strange that Willow was not with him, as she is always his constant companion. Except when he goes off on his own, but then she stays at home. She never goes off on her own.
'Oh well, she'll be back.' I thought. 'Maybe she just followed the neighbor's dog somewhere.'
Moma came at 6:30 PM to pick me and Jeana up for church. While loading everything in the car, I noticed Wags was still all alone.
'Maybe she's out front.' I thought. We left for church. It was a short service today, as most of the congregation, including the pastor, were attending a funeral after service. They just had singing and prayer, and then we went home. Jeana and I were going to Moma's for dinner, but we had to stop by the house to get Jeana a clean outfit from the house, since she soiled her only outfit at church.
Willow was still missing. I began to think that maybe someone took her. After all, she was a beautiful, black, American Pit Bull Terrier puppy. I guess it was just wishful thinking. So, we drove up and down our small road looking for her. She was nowhere to be found.
That's when we went onto the smaller road that leads out to the highway. We were looking in the ditches. Finally, Moma got on the main highway, and went the opposite direction of her house. We'd go just over the state line, and turn around and head back home and hope for the best.
From where I sat in the backseat, I couldn't see ahead, I just concentrated on the right side ditch, while Alex, my brother, looked on the left side ditch. My heart sank, when Marissa, my sister, in the front passenger seat and Moma got pained looks on their faces.
"She's dead, isn't she?" I asked.
Marissa nodded.
I buried my head in my hands and started bawling.
"No, no, no, no." I kept repeating.
Luckily, the fence that blocked our road on the other side was let down, so we were able to go through the back way, instead of having to face that again.
I was in shock and disbelief. Willow was a homebody. How could this happen?
"We've got to go back and get her." I said in a moment of insanity. She a least deserved a burial. My beautiful Willow.
"Not in this traffic." Moma said.
"Maybe we could get a police officer to stop and put on his lights." I said, still hoping. I couldn't just let her continue to get ran over. I couldn't even fathom the thought.
"Later tonight, we'll get James to go back and put his emergency flashers on and get her." Moma said. I think she was only saying that to comfort me. "Traffic won't be so bad then."
"We don't even have a picture of her!" I cried.
We got to Moma's and she prepared dinner. Later, she brought me back home.
Ten minutes after dropping me off, she called.
"Don't let James go back and get her." She said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Somebody already moved her out of the road."
Something in her voice told me that wasn't true.
"You're lying to me aren't you?"
Silence.
Sighing, I replied, "I knew it."
There was nothing left of her to pick up.
We didn't even have a collar to bury. James took it off of her because it was getting too small (she grew so fast!) and she ate it.
I waited an hour until James got home. I plastered on a fake smile and served him his dinner. I was going to try and wait until he was finished to tell him the news, since I wasn't sure how he'd take it.
"What is it?" He asked.
I tried to speak but the words wouldn't come out.
"Do you have bad news?"
All I could do was nod.
"Come and sit down." He told me, leading me to the couch.
I finally cleared my throat, and wiped at my tears.
"Willow passed away." I said. He pulled me in a tight hug as I skimmed over the details.
His eyes misted as he told me that God was in control and everything would be all right.
I prayed in my heart that there's a special place in Heaven for pets. If there is one, Willow deserves to be there. She overcame the odds when everyone else was against her.