I turned back for a dead dog a few days ago. I saw it ahead in the road as I was 30 miles from home and towing a boat/trailer to go fishing. The road was a 4 lane divided highway west of Richmond, VA and it was about 9AM.
As I got closer, I could see it likely had not been dead long because it was not mangled by traffic. Even on a less traveled highway, an animal body will get hit a number of times before a road maintenance crew arrives. Or until I did.
As soon as I slowed and went around the dead hound-mix, I could see that it was intact and relatively undamaged. I started to get that slightly nauseous feeling that shows up when you witness something pitiable. It's not disgust. It is more like a feeling of shame that you could not have done something and you feel guilty for seeing a tragic scene.
As I realized that the dog would be hit repeatedly by cars, my eyes looked left for the cut-throughs and I didn't really want to go back. I was afraid of the feeling of being the person to remedy the situation. I was on the spot and I knew it would be a matter of a few hours and the dog's body would be crushed by cars.
And I knew that was the reason that I had to turn back: I could not bear to allow his body to be crushed like trash, or even like a groundhog or deer. A dog is not a wild animal. A dog is the best creature ever domesticated and refined by humans.
Only Man and Dog have a true relationship of trust and companionship in all of Nature. If I drove on, I would be less a person.
The next highway gap was ahead.
I turned and went back the way I came as I looked left for the place where cars would probably be slowing down. And there was the dog's body. I looped back at the next cut-through and pulled over to the right. I breathed to steady my nerves and a peaceful feeling of tenderness came over me as though it was poured into my chest and stomach. I was not nervous as I got out of the car.
No cars were approaching, so I had plenty of time and a clear view of oncoming cars maybe 1/2 mile away. As I walked over to take the dog by his rear feet to drag him off the road, I could see that his injury was from a body hit. The details make no difference here, but he had not been dead very long.
With his body now lying in the grassy area just off the right paved shoulder, I could look at his head and that is when I almost cried. It was not from sadness or shock. It was from gratitude that somehow I was placed in this moment to provide final respect for the finest earthly creature short of humans.
It was like being given a special gift for doing what I was compelled to do.
His eyes were open even in death.
And I saw my 'Conner' again... back when he was vibrant and beautiful and just five years old. And then in my memory, I saw him again on the Saturday morning when the veterinarian brought his 'kit' to my house to euthanize Conner into peace rather than die in misery of aggressive cancer. Conner lay down and left the world with his eyes open. It was the first time I ever saw that in the few euthanasias I had witnessed. Just for that minute as he died, we looked into one another's eyes with a love that is difficult to describe unless you experience it.
Conner was a Flatcoated Retriever/Labrador cross that I adopted from a local rescue group and he led me to become a rescue volunteer. I learned how to use 'click and treat' training with Conner and other dogs after him. He was "Conner CGC' and I was so proud for him when he got his Canine Good Citizen certification without even having taken the 6 week class to prepare for it.
... but as I looked into the eye of the dead hound I had pulled from the road, I realized it was only his body lying there on its side. It was likely a hard thump that killed him instantly as the car or truck ran into him. I prayed briefly that his soul be kept in heaven and that somehow he would recognize me some day if I arrive to reunite with those I have loved, pitied, helped, and treasured.
It was a brief incident I will never forget, if I am fortunate. I don't want to forget how his face looked and how his eye looked, though he was seeing nothing.
But I saw a lot more clearly that morning and hope you may do so, as well.
