Last night on the way home, I turned into my road, and there laid out right in the middle is Strav. Strav was 3 years old, and named after my sister's dog. She'd been hit by a car, and obviously whoever hit her must have known, but didn't stop, check her, move her to the side, or anything. She was left to bleed to death in the middle of the road when I found her. Already rigamortis had set in, and so I'd guess she'd been there for an hour. Being a parent, I have sort of become immune to these things, but I still feel terrible for her.
Still I'd like to think it was quick.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF CHIPPY TEA
3 years ago
