a terrible fate, even for a chihuahua

I dislike small dogs. Chihuahuas, for example. Loathe. Those miniature Scottie-type dogs? Yorkies? Dislike. Even miniature dachunds, I’m not a big fan of. Basically, if a dog is smaller than a breadbox, it isn’t a real dog. (I live with a black lab & have a golden retriever at home, after all)

However, that doesn’t stop me from being horrified when I see a small dog run out into the street and get run over. And hear it. My girl roomate and I were out for a walk to the grocery store tonight when she noticed the chihuahua following us. I stopped and leaned over to try and get it to come closer, so I could pick it up. It ran away. Into the street.

It was somewhere between a crunch and an explosion, pretty much what you’d expect. My roomate screamed. She’s a vegetarian because she doesn’t want to eat animals, after all. She loves animals. She’s far more concerned about animals than people. She’s going to be traumatized for some time. And while I’m horribly sad for the dog’s owners (even though they didn’t even have a collar on the damn thing), I’m even sadder for her, because I know what she’s thinking – she’s thinking about her dog, our black lab, and how terrible it would be if anything happened to him.

We’re still up, even though it’s 3am. I came home tonight, and fell asleep by 8:30. I’ve been getting too little sleep this week, and it just caught up with me. I woke up at midnight though, because I was having nightmares, about a storm and the oceans rising up, about twenty foot waves coming up over the sea wall back home. I dreamed I was walking along the road by the marina, in Oak Bay, and the waves were just the usual storm swells at first, just salt spray coming up onto the sidewalks, and then, suddenly, it was a wall of water that crashed down on everything. My worst nightmares tend to be set in Victoria, and it’s always about the destruction of my home. Earthquakes. Floods. Nuclear war. Devastatation. Pogroms.

But, like earthquake nighmares, tidal wave dreams make me a bit uneasy, because I do, after all, live in Los Angeles. At least I won’t keep having nightmares once I fall asleep again. My roomate will. I wish I could help that.

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