Today, a piece of my heart was torn out of me. I lost my baby Belle. My sweet, goofy, wild, snuggly little girl.
I was still asleep and it was almost noon - this is a normal Sunday. Chase and Belle got up around 8 as usual. They’re the earlybirds in this family. I heard Chase yell my name a couple of times. I was thinking, “What the Hell?” and got up out of bed and booked it to the living room. He was repeating, “Oh, God” and, “I’m sorry” with tears in his eyes. “It’s Belle. She’s out in the road.” Without thinking, I shoved my feet into the closest shoes I could find and sprinted out the door calling her name, already barely breathing out of fear.
She was laid out in the middle of the road. No movement. No whining. No breathing. No bleeding. She looked like she was asleep… except her green eyes were open. Empty. I bawled. Hard. I kept feeling around for a pulse or sign of breath. Nothing. She was gone before we even saw her. I kept begging her to wake up and telling her it was ok. Chase had to peel me off the road after he moved her.
We think she must have died immediately from the force trauma to her head. There were no cuts or gashes - just a few scrapes on her little legs from the pavement. I hope to God i was instant. That’s the part that’s tearing me up the most - I wasn’t there to tell her it was ok when she was scared when it happened.
He moved her to the backyard before his dad came over to help him bury her between the tree. All I could do is sit beside her and pet the top of her neck and behind her ears, apologizing. I was still hoping she would wake up and look at me.
I’m not coping well. I lost my child. I’m sleeping with her sweater.
If I find the son of a bitch who hit her and left her there, I will bash his head in until he’s laid out on the round like she was.
I just want babybelle back. Taking up the footroom in the bed. Waking me up to let her out in the morning. Jumping on me when I get home. I want her back more than anything.