Yesterday started off like any other Monday. I got up, cleaned up the kitchen, bathroom and swept the floors (we had a lazy weekend), got the Sami up and ready for school (Nevyn stayed home sick with a really bad cough), welcomed my day care families, the usual stuff. I had an interview for my last open day care spot later in the morning and I think that went well. Kids ate, slept, ate some more, played, gave me a headache, all normal Monday stuff.
Yoga Mondays should be self explanatory but just to clarify, I go to yoga at the gym on Monday nights. It's the best part of Monday and a great way to start off the workweek. I had been looking forward to going all day. The week before I tried a different class at a different 24 hour fitness. I had been taking the same class for a few years and I had gotten kind of bored. I needed to switch things up a little. I loved the "new" class and was even sore the next day so I was really looking forward to going again.
My last day care angle left right around 6:30. I changed my clothes, got my stuff together, said good bey to my family and headed out the door. I was half way to my usual gym when I realized I was going to the wrong way (my new class is at the other gym...). I thought about just going to my old class since I was almost there and backtracking to the other gym would cut into my treadmill time. But then I remembered how great I felt last week so I got into the turn lane to go east onto Hurley instead of west. Later I would realized that God was trying to save me some grief and I should have just gone to the old class.
Hurley is a busy street for both cars and pedestrians so I'm always on the lookout for the unexpected and last night wasn't any different. I was about two blocks away from Watt when I saw someone walking a dog on the residential street coming up on my right. Well, I didn't really see them as much as I saw the reflective stripes on the man's pants and on the dogs leash. (The dog had very dark fur and the man was all dressed in either dark blue or black.) I saw them approach Hurley and stop at the corner. Everything seemed fine. That is until the dog got away from his owner and ran out into the street, right in front of my car.
I slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve but there wasn't much room due to oncoming traffic. Then I heard the THUMP. I hit the dog! I HIT the DOG!!! I froze, I was afraid to move the car. What if the dog was laying there in the street, I didn't want to do more damage than I already did. The owner yelled that it was safe to move. I pulled over, got out and looked, but didn't see the dog. The owner came over to me, thanked me for stopping and showed me what was left of the leash. He said the dog broke it before running into the street. Then he ran off after the dog. A neighbor who came out to see what was going on said he saw the dog run off down the street after crossing Hurley.
I stood there for a minute. I didn't know what to do. I got my phone out and started to text Jeremy the entire story. He squeezed in four words to me between my frantic typing, "Come Home Now Please". After I pulled up in the drive way I showed him where the dog made contact with the car (by the the right headlight). He was looking for damage, of course the car was the last thing I was thinking of. "No damage" he said. "Just a little bit of blood, and look, some fur". I just about threw up right there in the front yard.
I couldn't have felt worse about the whole thing. I know it wasn't my fault and I did everything I could have but the guilt over hitting that dog is eating me up. I really hope he's okay. I love dogs and I've always had dogs growing up and as an adult. I really wish I had just gone to my old class...