Every time I am at home and go to spend the night, I go to each of my corgis, kiss them on the cheek, whisper good night and that I love them, then kiss them on the forehead. I have little pet names for each of them.
For Colter: *kiss* “Good night, Little Boy. I love you.” *kiss*
For Dakota: *kiss* “Good night, Bubby. I love you.” *kiss*
For Jenny: *kiss* Good night, Baby Girl. I love you.” *kiss*
Whenever I leave to come back to Greeley, it’s the same thing. *kiss* “Good bye, I love you.” *kiss*
Last night, my dad called me in tears. One of our gates had somehow been left open. Colter was still in the backyard, Dakota was missing, and my sweet Jenny had been hit by a car and was killed. I leaped into my car and drove back home in record time, alternating between crying for Jenny and crying for Dakota. I pulled into our drive way, and no one was there. I ran inside the house and found Colter whining at the door. I clipped his leash on him.
“Let’s go find your brother.” We set out of the house in the pitch black night. I found my parents driving around, and they told me several of our neighbors were out looking for Dakota too. We set off our separate directions.
Calling for Dakota, Colter and I walked along the road out toward some of our friends’ house. Suddenly, he started pulling his leash towards an old dirt road that only tractors use, next to an irrigation ditch. I’m familiar with it, I used to run there a lot before I injured my ankle years ago. We turned down that way and he peered into the empty ditch.
“Dakota?” A little head popped up from the darkness. “DAKOTA!” Dakota excitedly pranced around the bottom of the ditch. I tied Colter to a fence post, then slid down the mud to Dakota. I picked him up and carried him back up the embankment, crying and hugging him. I tied him and Colter together and started off for home, when one of our neighbors found me and took us back, where we got in touch with everyone else. Our boys were safe.
But not Jenny. Some of our neighbors had found her and instantly recognized her as ours. They wrapped her up in one of their blankets for us, which she was still wrapped in when I went to say good bye. I hugged her and cried with my parents, sister and brother in law. Colter and Dakota knew something was wrong, too. They tried standing on their back legs- a skill only Jenny perfected- to see onto the picnic table we had placed her on. They looked on sadly when we put her on the ground for them to see.
That night, I moved Jenny into the garage onto her garage bed (as opposed to her indoor bed). I stayed the night and woke up early to get to work at seven. I said goodbye to my parents, my cats, and Colter and Dakota.
And last, I went into the garage and hugged and kissed my Jenny, and softly said “Good bye, Baby Girl. I love you.” One last time.
You can see other posts featuring Jenny here: