For those not following my every twitch on Twitter…
BadBoy (this is a man) was run the fuck over by a tractor trailer and his neck was broken. He is not paralysed.
I found Bobby’s mangled corpse this morning on my way to work.
I came home (never actually made it with the hysterical sobbing) to learn Bobby had been shot, then dumped in the middle of the road to be ran over repeatedly to hide the evidence.
While I do not know the official tally, I had read in a local, Podunk paper about dogs being shot and dumped on our road over the last couple of months. The tally then was 3, so Bobby makes 4 unless there were more. I don’t frequently follow local news.
This led to a series of phone calls with the county & different departments. There’s an investigation already and several threats have been reported. This sounds perhaps all too common in more populous area and even though there are some 700 homes across these three valleys (when I was a kid, it was SEVEN), it’s still pretty shocking.
There’s no direct proof and while there are two popularly-suspected men in the area, that doesn’t even mean it was them. Either way, my semi-retarded dog was killed and dumped. I have to drive passed that mark on the road where there’s still some meat left and a mess of bloodstain.
I’m almost beyond the clawing need to help him. I’m almost to ire, just too tired at the moment.
I mean, the officer kept apologising and I wasn’t even crying. Filing the report required graphic details, though.
That was fucking unpleasant.
But back to after Bobby’s body and before the intrigue:
I pulled off the road because I had been swerving around a bit and then found myself sitting at a green light, bawling. Nobody honked. I think they could see I was beside myself and thought ‘bitch needs to get off the road.’
That’s when I got off the road, cried more, made some phone calls, cried more, called out of work, cried more, posted Bobby’s Dead, cried more, made some more phone calls and after 2 hours, decided to go home. I had calmed down.
Whilst sitting in my car, I had turned the motor off OF COURSE but left the lights on so as to not get run the fuck over myself.
Turning the key, nothing happened.
My battery had gone dead, too. That’s a story in itself (‘how many men does it take to jumpstart MT’s sportwagon?’) but the end is that I have a brand new battery.
Then I went and bought a bottle of wine from Cahors (beautifully odd place in France), a bottle.of hard liquor and a 6 pack of my favourite sweet cidre. -typically, I prefer very dry but sometimes I make exceptions
So, fuck this week.