Shots Rang Out

We heard the shot, but this one was different. Gunshots tend to ring out. We were sitting out in the country, where gunshots are common. This one though seemed intentional. It had an air of finality to it.

It started out as a regular day. We woke up too early and made coffee, knowing that at some point we’d need more. We took our time, savoring the brief moment of quiet, the calm before the storm when the kids would suddenly burst on the scene.

We didn’t have a lot of time to sit around and take it easy. Relaxation would come later in the day, but we were expected at my dad’s house before lunch to celebrate the holiday.

Just like clockwork, the kids exploded from their rooms and it was time to start getting ready. There were cars to load, breakfasts to eat, and food to make. It wasn’t long before we were finally ready to hit the road, 3 kids, 2 cars, 1 dog. Divide and conquer.

Holiday traffic was light that day. Surprisingly so. I would have expected, at least assumed, that everyone would be ready to get out and celebrate our nation’s birthday after being forced indoors for months that never seemed to end.

It was a peaceful drive out to the country. My son was in the backseat reading. The dog rode shotgun, sitting up to survey the trees out her window every so often before lying back down. Mostly, it was some much-needed quiet.

I turned off the highway and drove through the little town of about 300 people. Save for the holiday parade, just about everything was closed.

The road wound around until it gave way to the gravel turnoff. I slowed down to take the turn and let my tires grip the loose rock. The road has some hills, so I like to take it slow. When I cleared the second hill, I saw dad’s neighbor walking his dog. Instinctively, I moved to the opposite side of the road and he did the same, grabbing his dog as he did. We both waved when the truck rolled past.

But it didn’t matter.

At the last second, his dog bolted out at my truck. I felt the bump as my tires hit Daisy’s legs.

I slammed on the brakes and skidded across the gravel as my heart raced to a stop. I got out of the truck and ran over to see Jay’s face turn red. He held his head in his hands.

“Did that just happen?” I asked.

“She just jumped out. She’s never done that before,” Jay responded.

“Let me help you get her home,” I offered.

Daisy had managed to drag herself back across the road to the other side. I backed my truck up to her. We lifted her into the bed. Jay climbed in to sit with her for the short ride. We moved her over to Jay’s car so she could be more comfortable.

“I’m so sorry Jay,” I said, offering sympathy and support.

“It wasn’t your fault, don’t let it ruin your holiday,” he said.

“But still, let me know if there is anything I can do,” I managed to get out.

With a knot in my stomach, I got in my truck and slowly drove over to dad’s. We were the last to arrive. The rest of the family was already there, enjoying hors d’oeuvres and cocktails.

Dad saw me coming up the drive and came out to greet me.

“How are you boy?” he asked.

“Okay, I guess,” I responded.

“Just okay?” dad said.

I had to tell him what had happened.

“Jay says thank you, but he won’t be able to make it. I just ran over his dog,” I told him.

I went inside and settled into a bloody mary while the family slowly found out what had happened. I sat quietly, sipping my drink and nibbling on the occasional olive. While everyone else sat and chatted, I wasn’t much for conversation.

I heard dad tell his wife what had happened, and then he picked up the phone to ring Jay. No answer. He texted.

“Jay heard what happened. We all feel terrible. Let us know if there is anything we can do. Don’t worry about coming over. We all understand. Best, Kurt.

After lunch, the boys wanted to swim in the pool. I thought maybe some air would do me good. I helped the boys change into their swim trunks, and grabbed a few beers to take out to the deck. I sat and watched the boys splash and play in the pool, sipping a beer with the sun behind me. One by one, the rest of the family came out to enjoy the sun.

By that time, I had begun to come around and started to involve myself in the conversation. We talked about the usual topics, when was my brother going to get married, the latest on Broadway from the New York family, books we were reading, classes we were teaching, Scotch, wine, among others.

“Would anyone care for a gin and tonic?” my dad asked.

Ten hands shot up.

A little while later, dad came down the path with a butler tray full of tumblers. I took a sip, and that’s when we the shot, but this one was different.

There had been people around us all day shooting guns. We were out in the country so it wasn’t unusual. Typically people around there would hunt or shoot targets all the time. But this one was different. It didn’t ring out. It was close. It sounded final.

Nobody said anything. I focused on my drink, signaling to my dad that I was almost ready for a refill. Dad came over and sat next to me and told me he had heard from Jay. He had to put Daisy down. While I had been hopeful, I guess I knew it was going to end this way all along. It was Fourth of July Sunday in a small Texas town after all. If there was a vet even open, they wouldn’t be able to do anything. The dog would need major surgery and even then, the chances of survival were slim.

Refills arrived and I settled into another gin and tonic, processing what had happened. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but still, I couldn’t help but feel bad. This wasn’t like hunting deer, this was someone’s pet, someone’s friend, and he saw it happen.

“I’ll go over tomorrow and see how he is doing,” I told myself. “It’s best not to let it ruin the day.”

We heard the triangle ring out, telling us dinner was ready. We all gathered our drinks and moved inside.