...

I'm beside myself. I have to write this down, maybe it'll clean me out.

The facts: Today, around one p.m. the neighbor's boxer got into our yard, and killed my dog, Pixie. I let the dogs out, as usual, a little after lunch. I heard Pookie barking, and sent Alden to open the door for them, as that's Pookie's signal to come inside. She came tearing in, Alden right behind her. He was very flustered "The big dog's out there! It has Pixie trapped against the wall!" I rush out to the back, and the boxer had my Pixie by the back of the neck, and was shaking her like a ragdoll. Flipping her around, up in the air, smashing her against the wall. My little girl doggie, my angel. I screamed and ran for the dog, it dropped Pixie and fled. Pixie looked very dead, I was hysterical, screaming. I ran back toward the house, to the fence, where my neighbor was standing, peering over, at the commotion. I screamed for him to come get his dog, that it just killed mine. He came and got his dog, and he was stammering apologies, telling me that he would pay for a new dog, etc. I wasn't paying attention to him, I was trying to figure out what to do. At this point, I assumed my babygirl was dead. There was blood spattered all over the side of the house, and the basement door, from the ground, up the walls about 3 feet.

I ran for the phone to call Irv, and ran back outside to see about Pixie. The phone was dead. Pixie was filthy, covered with mud, and blood, laying there in the corner. Her eyes were bulged out of her head, she had puncture wounds all over the back of her neck. Her mouth was agape, and her tounge lolled out. Her whole face was greyish, and she had bloodspots blooming around her eyes. But, I felt her body, and she was still breathing, her heart was still beating. I whispered to her, and smoothed her fur, and her lips twitched. She was moving her mouth a little, and her eyelids, but, I don't think she could close them. I ran into the house to find the vet's number, to tell them I had an emergency that I was gonna bring her in. I couldn't find it, so I grabbed a towel, and placed her so gently on it. I yelled for Alden to grab my keys and phone, and I sorta made a hammock out of the towel, to carry Pixie to the car. I made her as comfortable as I could, on the floor of the passenger seat, and we rushed to the vet. Her heart was still beating, when I placed her in the car. I had this great surge of hope, maybe she was just in shock, maybe it was all surface wounds, maybe I got out there in time!

We get to the vet, and they rushed her to a room, the nurses performed CPR on her, while someone rushed to get a doctor. She looked so bad, there, so dirty and bloody and small. The vet rushed her to the operating area. That was it. Fifteen minutes, he came out, and broke the news. They did all they could, but she was dead. Her heart wasn't beating when we got there, and they couldn't ressucitate her. She died on the way to the vet, right there on the car floor.

All sorts of shit happened after that, the whole day was spent deep in shit, but I don't even want to go into it. Suffice to say, Irv showed up at the vet, we decided together that we would bring her remains home, and bury her in the yard. Alden didn't really understand, I don't think. He didn't internalize it till much later. Irv came in his work truck, so he called Mom to come drive me home, because I was in no shape to drive.

He buried her out by the front of the yard, near the flagpole, where she used to like laying, and sunning to watch traffic go by. While he was doing that, Mom took me to the police station to file a complaint. Blah blah blah, legal shit, I was in there for three hours giving a statement. They were incredibly sympathetic.

The vicious dog was seized by the Humane Society, then later turned over to the SPCA, for quarrentine. I'm not sure what's gonna happen to it, but by all the gods if they don't put it down, if it shows back up next door, I will take matters into my own hands.



Now, my feelings: I've never witnessed such a random, senseless act of violence in my entire life. I don't even want to get into it, except it will be a long time before I can get over seeing it unfold, like that. Knowing my son saw the same thing. I know, from where she was killed, that she was sitting on her favorite concrete pad, sunning, like always, when she was attacked. I keep seeing it over and over, her blood everywhere. Her getting tossed around like a toy. Everyone said, thank god, it could have been Alden. I know, and they're right, but it wasn't. I don't even want to think about that, right now. I couldn't begin to handle that.

My little Pixie. She weighed eleven pounds, she had about 5 teeth left. She wasn't ancient, but she was getting up in years. Turned 7 this year. She was the sweetest, gentlest dog I've ever seen. Calm, benign, loyal, motherly, just a fucking great dog.

I adopted her from the SPCA when I was 4 months pregnant. She was 9 months old, and she was horrendously mistreated. She and her sister were abandoned in a vacant house, locked up for two weeks. They drank out of a toilet, and ate garbage to survive. Her sister was already adopted, but she was still there. She was thin as a rail, most of her hair was gone, you could practically see through her. But she was so beautiful, so I don't know, just...just her, I had to have her. I made Irv take off of work so he could come down and adopt her with me. I loved her so much from the moment I saw her, I can't even explain it. Her eyes were so soft, so incredible. One was blue. I'm crying so hard right now, I can barely see the screen.

Anyway, it was a rocky first year or so, she wasn't housebroken at all, she was a submissive pisser, so any time anyone leaned over her, she pissed all over the place. She was a nervous wreck all the time, she wouldn't eat anything except shit food, which gave her the shits, and she shit all over the house, all the time. It was very hard, but god, I loved her so much.

When Alden was born, she was so protective of him, she slept in his room every night. When he was on the floor, she laid near him, in her lion pose. She was such a great momma dog. We'd go walking, or to the park, and she'd never take her eyes off of him. When we got our cat, it was the same way, Momma dog, she mothered that kitten so hard, she would lick her clean, herd her to the water dish, curl up with her to sleep. Everyone was Pixie's puppy.

Pixie was so intuitive. She was the first one there, if someone was crying, she was patient enough to let me bundle her up, and cry into her fur, when I was going through something. She would snuggle around my head, when I was sick. She hated being picked up and messed with, she got so tense, but when someone was upset, she was right there. She was never a lap dog, either. Very content to lay pressed up against your leg, but as soon as you pulled her into your lap, she got fidgety.

Besides the early years, she never once gave me a problem. Never dug in the garbage, never chewed anything up (except lipsticks, for some reason), never ran away, nothing. Once she was housebroken, that was it, no more messes. She was so peaceful, she hated noise. Quiet as a mouse. She wasn't barky, and when she did bark, she had this soft rolling howl, like "hou-ou-ou-ou-ou" God, I miss her so much already.

I've already gotten the retarded "well, it was just a dog" statement from a few people. She wasn't just a dog. I've had pets that were just pets. Pixie, she was another family member, she was almost a part of me. I feel like it's part of my heart, lying out there under the ground. I've never been so attached to an animal (I'm not even this attached to most people), I can't even explain it, but, a little of my heart broke today.

She's out there in the yard, in the dark now, and I just want to sit out there with her. I feel like I shouldn't be leaving her alone out there, she hated being alone. She slept with us every single night. I'm going to plant a rosebush, on her little mound out there. A white one, the kind that are tinged pink. She was white, but tinged a little pink.

I can't write anymore, I'm all writed out. I don't know if this will help me or not, because right now I'm crying really hard. I do feel better getting down all the good things about her, I feel like I had to document what an excellent dog she was.