The Adventures of Alvin: Episode 3

Spring of 2002: Hit by car

Alvin slipped out of the front door one rainy day, and my mom chased him out onto the front lawn. Alvin began playing his favorite game, "catch me if you can" as he darted in and out, jumping front and back, and slipping just out of reach as she tried to grab his collar. The tongue from inside his mouth hung and waved wildly with his devilish grin. She slipped on the wet grass and tripped, as Alvin darted into the street attempting to continue his game with the big SUV coming down Country Farms Road. Unfortunately, the vehicle gave Alvin a run for his money and outcompeted him at his own game; hitting him and resulting in a weak, afraid and bloody dog. My mom grabbed him in her arms, and screamed inside for me to come with her to the vet. My dad, asleep on the couch had no idea, and my mom insisted that we would NOT tell him about this... the last thing he needed to do was be awaken to the horrible news of the fate of his prized possession. We left for the vet and spent countless hours in the waiting room. I still remember the ugly flower clogs I threw on that day (who let me wear such hideous styles at the age of 12???) and the bumble bee yellow and black striped jacket which from that day on was stained with Alvin's blood. While in the waiting room my mom got an alarmed call from my dad who only was able to get out the words "is he dead?" Shocked... she just said, "what are you talking about? We just had some errands to run and took Alvin with us.." But it was too late for lies, because the person who had hit Alvin had returned to the house and rang the doorbell.. with guilt and concern and wanted to find out if the dog was okay. Our plan was ruined. My mom had to be honest and said she didn't know what would happen, but that we hoped he would be okay. My poor dad had to wait in dismay until we came home hours later, Alvin with us with 2 rear leg casts and a long 8 weeks of healing ahead of us. We had beat the odds of 1 in 5 dogs surviving being hit by a car. I remember some nasty snow storms that spring.... and endless plastic bags tied around his legs as he insisted on romping in the snow with broken bones and extra costly visits to his specialist an hour away to get the bandages replaced. From even a young age, I could see that this dog was an extra handful, although we all loved him quite the same if not more.