RIP Little Chief

My animal loving wife, Diane, comes running into the house late this morning. She was beside herself. She had just run over my sister’s little Yorkshire Terrier, Chief. (Named by me sister after our father, the fire chief).  Diane is the worst person in the world that this could happen to. Even when our cat would kill a mouse she would insist that we put it in tissue in a small box before putting it in the trash. She gives to all the animal charities and volunteers at the Humane Society. The animal stories in the news are the ones that get her the most riled up. It’s early afternoon and she is still shook up. She is trying to read to get her mind off from it.

She was driving down the hill coming home and she spotted him out of the corner of her eye. He was hidden by the large snowbanks and came running out to greet her and the car. She ran over him (she’s pretty sure) and then the dog went running back down the drive and home. She stopped and told them that “I think that I ran over Chief but I’m not sure”.  She then ran home to tell me that we needed to go with them to the hospital.

He died in my sister’s arm on the way. What a horrible experience for all of us. He was not even one year old.   Everyone loved that little dog. He thought everyone was his friend. We loved having him over for family gatherings.

We were going to have a sledding party with hot chocolate and a bonfire but nobody feels like it now.

Namaste