Remembering a friend and hero

Yesterday was a bleak day.

All winter my family and I have waited for snow; we got it - just a little bit. Yesterday morning, early, my teenaged grandchildren and their mom were outside frolicking in the snow with KeyKey, a rescued dog turned "companion dog" (my daughter is disabled) turned hero with two human lives to his credit (mine included). They live in a residential neighborhood on a tree-lined side street.

A pick-up truck driving too fast for the icy roads sped up the access road and made the sharp right to their street, immediately launching into an uncontrolled skid. KeyKey, a Shepherd/Sheltie mix with herding tendencies, ran in circles herding the family. They escaped. The truck hit him full force.

The joy of that first frolick in the snow ended with the children and their mom screaming, crying, falling to the ground around him, with KeyKey wagging his tail as he died in the snow, his humans all around him.

We are devastated. I keep breaking into tears, and everywhere around my house are traces of him from his visits, a doggie bone here, a leash there, a trace of "KeyKey fuzz" on my sofa, where he liked to curl up for a nap on every visit.

It's like losing a child; this hero dog rescued from trauma was someone we nursed and cherished and took into our hearts.

Each year I keep my snowman collection up all season, hope for the barest trace of snow. I took them down today, packed them up and put them away. Maybe next year I'll put them out again. Maybe.

Next week we pick up his ashes, which will be in a small wooden box with a plaque on the front.

The snow we all kept wishing for didn't turn out the way we had expected.