Rover Gets Run Over (real occurrence)

My shift at the plant ended at midnight and I was headed home. I was three miles from a hot shower, a cold beer, and blissful decompression. The four-lane road was deserted except for me and the SUV ahead in the same lane.

The limit was 45 mph but in my eagerness to get home I was speeding at 46. A row of cars in a lot was close by the right side of the road and, as the SUV passed, a large dog unknowingly entered the road from between the cars. The collision was sudden and unavoidable.

From my position directly behind I could see, illuminated by my headlights, the violent mangling beneath the SUV as the dog was buffeted between undercarriage and pavement, the tires just missing on either side. The SUV sped on as the dog tumbled out the back, and I jumped on my brake. He lay stunned, illuminated by my headlights. Then the horrible high-pitched yelping began as he writhed, his legs splayed at unnatural angles. I had to do something quickly.

My brain had just begun to race with options when the yelping slowed and quieted. The dog, straining and trembling, raised himself on his front paws. Then his back legs, flat against the pavement, worked themselves shakily back into position, and he rose. He gave his head a shake and steadied himself.

Turning to face me directly, ten feet from my bumper, and apparently associating my headlights with the perpetrator of the rude thumping, he began to chastise me in no uncertain terms thus: “Woof! Woof woof woof! Woof woof…Woof!” I stared back open-mouthed as he glared at me.

Then, after a well timed pause for effect, he trotted off in perfect form in the direction whence he came, head held high in an attitude of victory. And just before he disappeared into the dark he glanced over his shoulder and shot me one last “Woof!” The tone of contempt was unmistakable.

I shook my own head, steadied myself, and then, in a reflexive gesture of one who has just witnessed grace, and in gratitude for being delivered from difficulty, I made the Sign of the Cross.

I lifted my foot from the brake and my thoughts returned to that hot shower and cold beer.

Poor Doggie! And poor you! Has your heart slowed to regular yet? I’m glad this had a happy ending. (But did the SUV ever stop and see about the dog?)

I hope the dog was actually OK, and wasn’t just slinking off to die somewhere… :frowning:
I saw a cat get hit by a car a year or so ago. It ran right out in front of it… no way the driver could possibly have stopped. Then the cat kind of limped off and died by the side of the road. It was very disturbing, actually.

Nope. But then some people won’t even stop for *people * they hit.

The clearance beneath the SUV is what saved the dog. He was basically rolled rather than crushed. I know he had at least some bruises and I hope his jaunty gait was evidence that he would survive.

I really don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t run away. I might have had to put him in my car and take him home. Are there emergency veterinarians at that time of night?

Gald to hear the dog was ok, although I can’t beleive the SUV didn’t stop. Jerk.

Reminds me of a story.

When I was about 10 or so, I was out walking my dog. We lived in the woods, on a thin winding road. My dog was a big golden/lab mutt, about 80lbs. She slipped off her leash and ran out into the road to chase something right as a truck came flying around the corner. The driver slammed on the brakes, but was still moving pretty fast when he slammed into my dog. She got hit by the bumper and flew through the air, landing in a heap about 10 feet down the road. The truck stopped, and the driver jumped out (he happened to be my next door neighbor). We both stood there for a second, and then my dog shook her head, slowly got up, looked around, saw her friend (the driver) and ran over to play. Her only injury was a slight cut on her front leg, which she didn’t seem to notice. Dogs can be amazingly tough animals.

Some people. How about three in a row?

Stop the world, I want to get off.

Mah-keh-nuh.

Cussed fingers and their idle typos of familiarity.

Well, “Ex Mach”, I just hope you learned your lesson. (The dog told me to say that.)

By the way, that was a good, well written story. :wink:

When I was about 9, I was playing outside with my dog, a red doberman who wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. A pickup truck came down the road in front of the house and King Red decided he wanted to chase it.

Did I mention he wasn’t that bright?

He misjudged his own speed or the speed of the truck and actually ran out in front of the truck too close for the driver to even try to stop. The impact launched him about 5 feet into the air. He sailed over the hood of the truck and into the ditch beside the road.

The driver stopped as I ran to my dog.

Just before we could get to him, expecting to be weeping for my dead dog, he jumps up and runs in the direction the truck came and way from where it was going.

I go get my bicycle and go looking for him and the driver leaves. About half a mile down the road I find King Red hiding in the woods beside the road with nary a scratch. It took awhile for me to coax him out of the trees and back home. He never chased cars again.

About 15 to 20 years ago my dad was driving (read ‘racing’) us to school (90 to 100 mph, ahem…) when a cat crossed the road. We clearly saw the head going on one side, and the body on the other.
What a sight to begin the week, eek! :eek:

Anyway, it cost him 3 grands to get his front bumber and radiator replaced :stuck_out_tongue:

I once did the same thing to a great big ol’ lizard. The thing was huuuge, maybe three feet long and a sort of grey color. He rushed out onto the road and there wasn’t time to go around, so I drove over him. I looked back and saw him tumbling, then he did a little push up movement and dashed off into the desert.

Funny thing is, I’ve lived here my whole life and have never heard of any such large lizards. It made for quite a surreal situation “Local woman frightened by giant, possibly imaginary, lizard” story at eleven.

Yep. In smaller towns and rural areas, the local vets are on-call. You call their clinic, and the answering machine gives you an emergency number (sometimes the after-hours emergency number is listed in the phone book). Call, and the vet will meet you at the clinic. In larger areas, there are dedicated emergency clinics that are open whenever the day practices are closed (nights, weekends, and holidays). Depending on the size of the city, there may be multiple veterinary ERs.

If you do bring an animal in, though, you need to be prepared to take financial responsibility for any treatment you authorize, even if it’s not your dog. We’ll make every effort to get in touch with the owners if we can track them down, and some clinics are able to hold animals for transfer to the shelter, but if the owners can’t be found, the decisions and the bills are all on you. If the animal can recover and have a good quality of life, and if it’s a good adoption prospect, and if somebody can afford it, a staff member may take over responsibility, rehab the animal, and find it a home. Unfortunately, the odds of that happening are pretty low; you don’t exactly become a vet tech to get rich, and we only have so much time and money to spend on this sort of thing.

I just hope that poor dog didn’t end up with brain swelling, internal bleeding, or any of the three million things that can take a while to show up after being hit by a car.