Today I ran over one of my dogs and killed it. Every one at home has been afraid that this would happen (Zylo is – sorry, was – an incredibly frisky dog that loved greeting people as they arrived. We often joked that the only way we’d know thieves came would be Zylo’s sprint to a dark secluded area on the property).
Apart from feeling incredibly depressed and like my entire existence needs to be questioned (Helloo! Who runs over their own dog!??), I now have to explain to my little sister why her dog isn’t alive anymore.
Tomorrow is going to be interesting..