Wednesday, November 2, 2011

R.I.P. Geist

As anyone who follows this blog knows, I love animals. Living in apartments and in city homes most of my adult life has made it hard to have large animals that I like, such as dogs.

This last June, we picked up Geist as a 7-week-old puppy. It's the first time I'd ever raised a puppy from that young, but we were determined to raise her right, teaching her commands and how to be a good watchdog for our family. We took her to the dog park to make sure we socialized correctly. We walked her around the block several times a day. Sarah and I were excited about our first dog together.

Geist was a good dog, even though she was a bit over-the-top with her enthusiasm for nipping at other dogs. She listened to every (ok, almost every) command I gave her and always had a smile on her face for that next treat.

At about 8:15 this morning, Geist was struck by a car on our county road and killed instantly. I was in my office at the time and just let her out to relieve herself for the second time that morning since waking up. She was just spayed last week, so we'd been letting her out on the leash to prevent injury to the stitches, but this morning I thought she's probably ready to start exploring the yard again on her own.

I heard when she got hit and I heard the car just keep on going. They didn't slow down, they didn't hit their brakes... they just kept on going. Geist didn't yelp, and when I found her, it was pretty obvious that it was an instant death. I was out the front door and by her side within 20 seconds of it happening, but I didn't get to see the car.

I'll miss Geist, and I won't lie to you... I cried when I was burying her in our yard. She was the dog we bought to transition from city life to country life. We bought her in anticipation of having a big farm, even though at the time, we didn't even have a farm in mind yet. We raised her in the house, then she stuck it out in a 10-by-10 kennel in the yard of the old house for about two months or so until we were completely moved into the new house, and she was grateful for every minute of it. She barked when someone knocked at the door and she always had so much excitement for life.

We only had her for four and a half months, but we learned a lot from her.

Rest in Peace, girl.


  1. So sorry to hear that man. I guess the only thing in this situation to be thankful for is that it was quick and not like a wild animal that got to her. That is my fear of my two cats escaping, a dog or hawk getting to them.

    Again, sorry to hear it. No words that can comfort this kind of thing.