My Dog, Max

He was Hit by a Car ... and Shot.

When I was in the first grade, I saw something that rocked my safe little world. My rose-colored glasses shattered in a million pieces.

What happened made me realize for the very first time there were people living in it that were very different from me. In this child’s eyes, anyway, one was a very uncaring man and another was just plain mean.

Our family was just over two months new in town. So far, I liked it just fine and I liked my teacher at school, too. Because I was shy, I was a little slow to make friends, but that was okay. I made couple of friendships and I was happy. Besides, I didn’t really need a huge group of friends.

I remember this was a Friday and I could hardly wait to get home to share my day with Mama. Daddy was at work, but he usually got home a little while after I came home. My little sister would be taking her nap. Our dog, Max, always met me at the front door with his tail wagging his body. Max had been my friend for as long as I could remember.

After changing out of my school clothes, I went out in the backyard to play on the swing set. A few minutes later, Max came running, too. He wasn’t supposed to be loose outside! I ran back in the house to get his leash and tell Mama he got out.

Just then, there was the screech of tires. Mama said, “Oh No. Stay here while I get my shoes.”

By the time we got to the side street, a few neighbors were already there. I could see Max laying in the street on his side. The neighbors said he was hit by a blue car, but the driver never stopped. He just drove away. Max whimpered softly and gave a little wag of his tail when he saw me. I didn’t see any blood anywhere.

As I was begging Mama to let me go to Max, a neighbor from two houses away went into the street, took a gun from his waistband, and shot Max. It was loud and I jumped when I heard it. Max cried out and then he was silent. That time when I looked, I could see a lot of blood on the street around Max and I burst into tears, horrified.

Right about then, Daddy got home from work, saw the commotion and me sobbing, and he came over to where we were. Seeing Max in the street and Mr. Bremer standing over him with a gun, Daddy shouted at him.

“What were you thinking? My six year-old daughter is standing right here! Max was her dog! This had nothing to do with you!” Then a police car pulled over to the curb. Of course, the officer wanted to know what was going on, too.

I was crying pretty hard by then. I could tell Daddy was angry. He explained to the officer that Mr. Bremer was wrong to shoot Max, especially in front of me. Daddy said he would have called the veterinarian to assess Max’s condition --Max might have been fine. Mr. Bremer should have minded his own business!

Mr. Bremer was sitting in the police car when Mama took me back to our house. Another officer was talking with him. Daddy said later that it’s a law. No firearms are to be discharged anywhere within the city limits. But that was beside the point. He had no right to butt in or decide Max should be shot.

I was only aware of one thing. A thoughtless man hit Max with his car and drove away. Then a hateful man shot my dog. I was sadder than sad could be measured, at least for a six year-old.

Our new town didn’t seem like such a nice place to live anymore ...

CJ’s World is reader supported.
If you enjoy my writing,
consider upgrading to
a paid subscription.
Thank you.