cowboy critters

It's a different life for a pet out in the country than in town. Before I moved here, I would bring my two little city dogs for weekend visits. The boys came too of course, and this place seemed to have the same effect on both. The fresh air, new smells and sounds, water, openness...was good for everyone. They ran and played and explored without leashes and limits.

Once we moved here permanently, some boundaries were necessary, but not like at the house in town. I was always worried about the kids riding their bikes where I couldn't see them, or the dogs getting loose and hit by traffic on the busy street  nearby.

Well, with freedom comes some risk. This week our little black shi-poo, Beau, got hit by a truck and trailer on the not-very-busy gravel road. I went looking for him in the car when he didn't come to my holler of  "Co-ttie, Beau-Beau!" I didn't get far. He was on the road at the end of our long driveway. There was no life in him, no reason to rush to the vet. I acted on impulse to find the truck and show the driver what he had done.  Why didn't he stop so I could have taken him to the doctor? I held Beau and drove a bit, but came home. I held his warm little body and cried and cried on the porch stairs. He was just a baby at a year and a half and was at that nice stage where they are less work and more nice to have around. He was the most playful of our pets, so animated and sweet.

I wrapped him up and put him in a laundry basket. I didn't know if they boys would want to say good-bye or not, but I wanted it to be their choice. I picked them up from school that day and told them on the way home. My husband had dug a hole for him next to where his own beloved dog was buried. The boys did want to see Beau. He looked asleep in the basket. We all said goodbye together.

I think watching the other dogs may have been worse than telling my kids about Beau. Cotton, my little white Eskimo, was shaking a lot. Is this like crying for a dog? She has been by my side since it happened a few days ago. Beau's best playmate was Fred the pug. Fred is a bit dim, but was looking out the french door for his buddy with his tail uncurled.

I remember living in the country as a kid and losing pets once in a while. It's kind of a cowboy life for them I think; a bit more danger, more adventure, more fending for themselves but with us humans as backup, just in case they don't feel too wild that day. If I were a dog or a cat, there is no way I would want to be stuck in a house in town looking at all that greenness and wonder out the windows. Nope, I would be a country pet...or a country kid...any day of the week.