The child was not yet three. Her Daddy put her in one of those child pack carrier contraptions. He picked her up and put her on his back. The dog was an unusual mix, maybe shepherd and terrier, maybe something else as well. This little menagerie went for a walk to the beach on that hot July day.
“No!” cried the Daddy in dismay as he saw the train approaching. The dog could not hear.
Only two returned to the house.
“What’s wrong?” cried the Mommy. “Where’s the dog?”
The little girl answered, “The dog hit the train.”
In sadness, the Mommy and Daddy buried the dog in the soft sand near the lagoon. They gave her the special bandana that she sometimes wore, her collar and tags, placing them gently by her side, and her tennis ball, her lovely, favorite tennis ball. They cried and said goodbye.
Less than a week later, the phone rang. It was the lab.
“I’m pregnant,” said the Mommy and she cried softly with joy for the new life, with regret for the recent loss.
Does it make it hurt less when you’ve lost a friend to gain a new life? They call it bitter sweet.