Back in January, I posted about my daughter's Corgi, Bart, miraculously surviving being hit by a car on the road. After that accident, we had kept him tied up in the yard for quite some time. But after it got nice out, and people were going in and out of the back door quite frequently, Bart would sneak out from time to time. It seemed like he had learned his lesson about chasing cars...so we kind of let him run around the yard with his buddy, our Chocolate lab/Springer mix, Jake.
That was all well and good for a while, with just one problem. You see, Welsh Corgis were originally bred to herd cows. Bart was a bit confused, and had recently taken to herding CARS instead. It was like he never wanted anyone to leave, and instead of just barking when someone came, he would bark when anyone left as well. And if he was outside when anyone was coming or going, he would run as fast as he could in circles around their vehicle. Well, on Tuesday, Ray had just come home from town, and Bart was running around the truck, as usual...but this time, unfortunately, he didn't get out of the way of the wheel. Ray felt sickened as he realized he'd just run over our grandson's dog, but Bart was still very much alive. He was limping, and not moving very well, but he wasn't bleeding or anything. We were hoping it was just the one paw. Later on that night though, he started looking worse and worse, and his breathing became very labored. Jessica gave him some pain meds that he had left over from his other accident, and sat with him in her lap. Bart's injuries were apparently much more serious than any of us realized, because within an hour or so, Bart breathed his last breath...right there on Jessica's lap.
In all honesty, I can't say as I've always been fond of Bart. Yes, he was a cute little thing, but he could be rather annoying at times. When they arrived in December, he wasn't completely house trained. And then, he was just getting pretty good at that when the first accident happened. Either it was brain damage, or the drugs he was on, but we basically had to start all over in that department, and he was once again, pottty trained. He also had some other weird little quirks...he hated the vacuum cleaner and would attack it whenever we used it, not just that, but pretty much anything used for cleaning, the broom, spray bottles, mops whatever. Anyway, he was finally starting to be a pretty good dog again, just a short time ago. My grandson CJ and my daughters, Jessica and Molly loved him very much, and Ray and I were just beginning to at least tolerate him living with us.
We had a "funeral" for Bart after Molly got home from school on Wednesday. Molly dressed in a black dress and read the eulogy she had prepared. Everyone said their goodbyes to him, including his 4 year old master, CJ. He seems to be taking it very well, even though he didn't believe that Bart was dead at first. Can you blame him? He'd been told just a few months ago that his dog was dead, (we all thought he was until Ray went out to get him), and then he was all of a sudden NOT dead again. Yesterday, CJ told me that maybe he would name his next dog "SpongeBob". We'll see. RIP Bart.
