The long and short of it has been that it is extremely warm for this time of year, even in the south. I think I’ve also seen more dogs around town with their owners than I can count. I know some are service animals while others are not. Service animals I don’t mind, and generally, I don’t mind dogs I do however mind when dogs are not kept with their owners appropriately. Yes, if you have an animal in public I feel it is respectful to others to have the animal leashed, sorry if it offends you. I have two reasons for this outlook you never know what may happen in a moment and you should be able to keep your pet close to you or draw them back is an option, also you never know what is going on with another person and it is respectful to them, not everyone finds fluffy (as cute as he may be) a welcome visitor. That stated I will relate my story because my silly girl is silly.
The story is set at Walmart, a woman had a big dog on a leash, which I am appreciative of, outside as we were leaving. My child is more afraid of dogs, with the exception of one she has ever known, to the point flight or fight kicks in, normally flight winning. The big dog lay sprawled not hurting anyone or looking much like he cared about anyone, I would guess as he was a service dog if I had too (given his manners). Our poor girl if I wouldn’t have been holding her hand would have darted right in front of a car, she was upset I made her stay on the sidewalk. The resounding cry I’m sure was heard in Canada rang through the air. “I have to get away from that dog!”
I explained while I respected her fear she simply couldn’t run out in front of a car because she would be run over and turned into a pancake and it would be a waste of good flesh. (Our humor it makes an impression.) She reflected on this a moment then piped up. “Yeah I guess I have to pay attention so I don’t get turned into a pancake like your other kid. What was his name?”
No, I don’t have another kid, much less one who was run over. I vaguely recall a telling her when she about three that there were children who were run over by cars so she couldn’t go in the street. So, what choice did I have but to answer? “Bill.”
“How old was he? He was younger than me wasn’t he?”
“I think he was about four.”
“You miss him? Don’t worry you have me now, and I’ll pay better attention because I’m six and I’ll be seven on my next birthday and I won’t get turned into a pancake because I know how to look out for cars.”
This conversation lasted us until we were home. Poor Bill the kid I never had, if you have made her think about the road more seriously then rest your poor imaginary soul. Your life was brief but your affect long. I have read stories and been mortified and heartbroken, for many a mom who have lost their babies to a car and I want to do my best to keep her thinking at all times about street safety. If this story makes her think, then I will be happy for her to think of Bill from time to time.