Sauce

today I saw my friends dog get hit by a car, then get up and scamper into the woods. It's dark and they haven't found him and he'll probably die. He was a Beagle, named Sauce.

This makes me think of the scene in Miranda July's, "You and Me and Everyone We Know" where she sees a bagged goldfish left on the roof of someones car in front of her. She says that before it dies it needs to know it was loved. So she says, "you were loved, I love you." Or something like that. That dog was loved too. We searched the woods for hours, even put up Lost Dog signs. It's so sad. Sauce was a really sweet dog. He was really soft and would just lean on your legs and stare up at you. I think he was about a year old too.

After something like that, the rest of the day doesn't even matter. When the car hit him he rolled over and Tori screamed and I just looked away. Then Sara said he got up and ran down the road, so the two of us ran down the road. She went into the woods and I kept running, looking left and right. I just wanted to find him so bad. More than I want anything else.

Like, after my dog was hit by a car in the 6th grade, for the rest of the year I would just picture her running across the yard to me whenever I came home from school. And just imagine that she never really died and we had just made a mistake, she was just somewhere else, like with someone who found her and didn't know where she belonged.

Life kind of sucks like that. It's just frustrating when a good thing like Sauce dies the wrong way.

These Days by Nico. listen <-- link