A sad thing happened this evening. Fredegar, our Hobbit Dog, was hit by a car. He died on the spot, right in front of our mailbox. The driver just kept going. I was the only one out front at the time, finishing tending the garden pots. We generally keep everyone in the backyard, pets included, but Hobbit Dog ran out through the garage with me and didn’t bother to come back when I called him. Or rather, he did start to come back, but he must have turned to check out that newest scent or something and it proved his undoing. I was talking to Princess over the fence–one of her to-be-tended-to-NOW needs– and then I heard it. I am so thankful that the children were not out front with me. Our neighbor ran over and stood near the dog while I ran in to get Haus Meister. I had hoped for a moment to compose myself and prepare myself for having to tell the children, but unfortunately Rascal happened to see his Dad and the neighbor carrying Hobbit Dog out of sight of the house. As I was crying, too, I don’t think I did a bang-up job consoling my poor boy.
Right now I think Rascal is the only one of the children who knows Fred is gone for good. Being the first time grief has ever come to him, it’s hit Rascal pretty hard. I let him make up a bed on the floor of my room so he could finally get some sleep. However, hope springs eternal, and he alternates between missing Fred and anticipating finding a new dog. I don’t blame him much–I already miss having a dog around. But the next one won’t see the front yard without being on the end of a leash, that’s for sure!
Goodbye, Fredegar. You were such a good dog. We miss you.