This is somewhat graphic, and very sad, so I'd stop reading now if I were you and you cannot handle that right now.
Sunday started off okay, then I left the house (first mistake) to take Mom to church.
Driving down Fulton road, we are getting close to our turn and there is a dog in the other lane running AGAINST opposing traffic. And there was some traffic.
I tell Mom we will be late for church because I will try to catch the dog and I have a barricade in the back of my car to hold him.
Then a truck is turning into the same lane as the dog, as the dog runs up to it. The truck tried to stop. He really did try. But his back tires went over the dog anyway. I am not happy the truck driver didn't stop though.
The dog did manage to get up and run down the street I was headed for. I just had to get the guy in front of me in the turn lane to get out of my way (he was tracking the dog too).
I made the turn and could see where the dog had collapsed (thankfully on the sidewalk). Another vehicle pulled off from the other direction and was calling animal services (I think). I pulled off to a side street by the same lady, told Mom to stay in the car and ran to the dog.
He had a tag on (thank goodness). His name was McGee. I called his owner and told him what happened and where we were and that I would wait for him. McGee kept trying to get up. I kept holding him down.
I think he was a pit bull cross. Beautiful dog. Young dog.
Every breathe brought more blood down the sidewalk and there wasn't anything I could for him other than keep him calm. I still don't know how I ended up without blood all over me.
The female half of his owner walked up about then with their other dog. McGee had gotten away from her. I could see how that happened. You have a strong dog, that wants to chase cars, being walked by a very small older lady that probably couldn't handle him.
I told her what had happened and that I'd already called her husband and that she needs to call the 24 hour vet clinic down the street and let them know they were on their way with the dog.
McGee started bleeding more heavily and all I could do was tell him it would be okay and that his owner was there and everything would be all right really soon.
The husband showed up and I asked the other lady that stopped to go to my truck and get a blanket out of the back (a Winnie the Pooh blanket I had made that my furbabies loved because it's fleece) so we could wrap McGee up for the ride to the clinic.
We got him into their truck. I said of course I don't need the blanket back. It's gone to a good cause.
I went back to my car and wiped the blood off of my hands and thanked the other lady for her help.
Mom and I went on to church. We actually made it on time, not that Mom was worried about it.
I went by the vet clinic on the way home. Their car wasn't there anymore which didn't bode well. I took Mom grocery shopping. We got the Christmas tree taken down and the living room put back together and I called the owner back since I still had their number in my phone.
His female owner answered the phone and thanked me again for stopping and for following up with the call.
McGee did not make it, which was not really a surprise. But I was crying anyway. A death of a beautiful animal never makes sense.
Good bye McGee. Your owners loved you dearly and miss you terribly.