There isn’t anything worse than finding out someone you care about is hurt. Usually, when one thinks about those who it is that they care about, they think of other people, but in my situation it was my dog. I had just walked home from the football team’s pre-game dinner, and I was feeling rather ecstatic. It wasn’t until I rang the doorbell that I realized something was wrong. Normally, when I ring the doorbell, my dog, Poe, barks his little head off until somebody comes to open the door, then he jumps at the door until I come inside. When I didn’t hear anything, I felt confusion, but I wasn’t too worried. Mom had probably come over and taken him somewhere. I walked through the living room into the kitchen, where my grandma gave me a look of sympathy, for reasons I couldn’t guess.

“Poe got out earlier today, and he was hit by a car. He’s in an animal hospital right now. Your mother is there with him.” she explained gently. For a second, it didn’t process. She couldn’t be talking about my Poe, my dog, could she? Then it clicked, and lost all strength in my body as the shock ran through me.

“Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” I muttered, hand over my mouth, leaning against a wall because I couldn’t support my own weight. Grandma nodded, still looking sorry for me, and patted me on the shoulder. I staggered outside to the backyard, needing some air. The weather was oddly fitting, the sky gloomy and grey, cold wind whipping dead leaves through the air. I sat down in the middle of my lawn, blinked away some quick tears, and stared up at the sky until I regained some semblance of composure. Behind me, I heard leaves crunching, and my grandpa calling my name.

“I know boy. I know. Nothing you can do now, come back inside.” He consoled me. I shook my head, unwilling to stand up. I reached in my pocket and called my mom, asking about how Poe was doing. I could barely make out what she was saying; her voice sounded emotionless, numb with shock. After the brief conversation, in which I found out Poe was probably going to lose an eye, I decided that I had to see him in person. I came inside and spoke to my grandpa, asking if he could drive me over to the animal hospital. He didn’t know how to get there, but grandma, thank goodness had the number of a taxi cab company. She called them up, and the 3 of us waited outside, braving the cold, until the man pulled up in front of our house. My grandpa and I piled in, while my grandmother paid the cab driver. Last thing I saw before I closed my eyes to pray was my grandma standing outside in the gloom, slowly fading into the distance.

The drive was the most agonizing part of the entire experience. Being forced to wait, knowing anything could be happening, knowing that I could do nothing, and wouldn’t know about anything until after the fact, was torturous. Being powerless to help was more painful than the initial knowledge that he was hurt. The cabbie whipped through traffic, taking side streets and back roads instead of the crowded highway. Maybe he sensed my desire to get there quickly, maybe he was just doing his job. I chose the former. We finally pulled up at the animal hospital and I saw my mom standing outside. She was leaning on her car, and I could tell from her body language she was exhausted. I walked over to her, and asked how Poe was.

“He’s going to lose the eye. It looks bad. Otherwise he’s pretty much non-responsive, he’s been drugged up so he isn’t really aware of what’s going on. They can’t tell yet if there is any type of brain or spinal damage.” I shook my head, numbed by her words, then gestured towards the building, suggesting we go inside. The 3 of us walked in, and mom approached the doctor, asking if we could all see Poe again. He led us in the back room of what was actually a veterinary office, to the actual animal hospital, where Poe was in a cage. My jaw hung loose in the air, unable to reconnect with the rest of my head. I kneeled in front of my dog, looking him over, even though I could not stand what I saw. His eyeball was most of the was out of the socket, blood-red, and the iris was black and crusted over, as if it were covered in dry blood. I reached out, and gently touched his head, petting him how I normally would.

“Hey buddy,” I whispered, “Your ok.” I sat there petting him for a minute then let grandpa get to him. While grandpa petted him and spoke his own private words, i turned and asked the doc for a breakdown. I needed facts, something concrete to process to take me away from the nightmare of doubt and fear. He explained to me that the eye was gonna be gone, it wasn’t safe to put it back in, and even if it was, there was no point; he wouldn’t be able to see out of that eye anyway. There didn’t seem to be any internal bleeding or anything, but they couldn’t be sure. In addition, due to a combo of the meds at the trauma, he hadn’t made any attempts at walking or moving, so they weren’t sure if he had any spinal or brain damage. In terms of spinal damage, there wasn’t any obvious harm done, but they couldn’t rule anything out yet. I thanked him for the information and after finally pulling mom away from Poe, we left. We dropped grandpa off at his house and drove home. On the way home, my mom started to break down in tears.

“This is why I want to be rich. So that when things like this happen, I don’t have to worry about the cost when getting those I care about the treatment they need. What if something happened to you, or grandpa and grandma.” I hugged her and waited for her to empty all her tears, then we drove the rest of the way home in silence.