We live on a country road - the house is set far back from the road. But there are a number of commercial farms on our route, and major grainery trucks travel the road at high speeds. Our mailbox is right next to the 55 MPH sign.
Today we lost a pup (he was about 9 months old). He ran out into the road (usually he's on leash outside of his pen - but not today) and was hit by one of these eighteen wheelers. One son was within several yards and witnessed it up close. The rest of the kids who were all in yard only saw the aftermath - but it was not pretty.
We gathered the children inside. While Mrs. Curley comforted them, I had the unenviable job of collecting poor Randy's remains. After boxing him and rinsing the road. I put the box in our wagon and the children came out for the burial. We dug hole deep enough so the coyotes won't come around and then gathered round the wagon. As we pulled the wagon towards the burial spot, we sang a few hymns. After lowering the box into the grave, I said something like the following:
"We thank the good Lord for all the blessings He has given us. But we realize and say with Job, 'The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord." And then we said Our Lord's Prayer and covered the grave.
From the small holding in Bethune ...
Oremus pro invicem!
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