Sierra

She was a sweet little dog. Dark brownish with a kind of square head and body. Her best buddy was a dufus big black Lab named Bear. She was a neighborhood friend. After being abandoned by her owner in the 1990’s Sierra was adopted by all the surrounding families. She made the rounds, ate here and there, got biscuits from everyone and generally kept watch. And she hung out with Bear.
I met her and Bear when I came to look at a house for sale. I pulled into the driveway and two dogs, one very large black Lab and one small squarish brownish dog walked slowly up to the truck. I didn’t know they were pushovers looking for a biscuit then. They looked possibly dangerous, especially Sierra. So I waited in the truck and shortly they ambled off for a cool lay down on the road.
A few weeks ago someone killed Sierra. Ran her over. Bear is still moping around looking for his pal. I can understand how a small dark dog that likes to lie in the road could get hit by a car in the dawn light. What I can’t understand is just driving off. It is unlikely that the killer was a stranger. There is no traffic on the road that isn’t residents going to work, especially at that hour. Except the paper guy, and he has been on this route a long time. No, I think whoever killed her knew her. And that makes it even worse.
Sierra was near the end of her life, old, nearly blind, nearly deaf and in some pain from doggie rhumatiz. She would have gone soon anyway, but peacefully. This ending to a sweet life was just wrong. But then life sometimes is, isn’t it?
(The picture isn't Sierra, but she looked like this, only brown.)
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