In seconds, with no warning, my live was forever changed. In that second, I felt hammered blows to my gut, my mind dening what it's seeing; grief suffocated me and guilt plunged a thousand sharpened swords, piercing my heart. Scruffy lay dead, looking asleep, except for the halo of thick red blood around his head.

I am describing the morning of May 04, 2007. The day started out very promising. I had taken the day off from the preschool, my daughter was managing the classroom. Mondays and Fridays are low enrollment days with the bulk of our numbers on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Mondays and Fridays allow us to make appointments and take care of any other miscellaneous errands.

My first stop was at Sears; I needed to talk to the "boss" to see if she could help me understand how a pair of blue topaz earrings I had brought in for repair before Christmas had been "lost." I had also received conflicting phone calls from the jewerly department leaving a message that my earrings were in, only to be told that they weren't when I was physically standing there to pick them up. As I was relating this story to the "boss," I saw her eyes light up and I knew she "heard" me and how some understanding of this mystery. She went to the lock safe, reached way in the back and brought out, cupped in her hand, a little box with my name on it. I could have turned cartwheels I was so happy to see my treasured earrings. I told her, she had made my day; when I left, my spirits were high and I thought, "this is going to be a great day!

I went back to the car. Scruffy, my black and white Shih Tzu wagged his tail at my arrival. Scruffy moved over from my seat. I had grocery store stop and then back to the pre-school. Upon arrival, I lifted Scruffy out of the car and put him down on the ground and headed towards the house. Scruffy ninty nine percent of the time followed me into the house after wetting the tires of the vehicles in the driveway and bushes. I made it into the house and into the bathroom when I heard an acceleration of a car motor and VOOM! I ran outside thinking someone had stolen my dog! I called his named looked in the bushes, however, the pit of my stomach told me something bad had happened. I turned my head and saw Scruffy laying lifeless in the street. At first I couldn't move. My mouth gaped open, no sound came out. I ran into the house and got Kristeen, the caregiver and friend of my son, Greg, and cried that Scruffy was dead; could she help me get him off the street, I sobbed. I got a small blanket and we wrapped Scruffy in it and place him in the garage so that we could bury him after the children left for the day.

Within me the harping accusing voices started. "Why didn't I carry him into the house?"

"Why didn't I leave him in the car until I got the groceries out?" There was no denying I was responsible for his death. I had left him alone and now he was dead. My jaw was racked in pain; everyone of my teeth created waves of hurt; I had never experienced such pain; my tears would not stop.

Thoughts filtered into my mind. I know this pain, but, could I imagine how a thousand times multiplied it would be to parents who lost a child to SIDS or through some accident they felt accountable for? I thought about a news story that told about a Father who had accidently backed over and killed his own child in his own driveway. How does one come out of that agony and the self accusing thoughts? My heart went out to all who have suffered such a loss under any circumstances.

The children grieved the loss of Scruffy. They made cards, told stories about Scruffy and how he made them laugh, and what their favorite memory was of Scruffy. Daily, they expressed how much they missed him. I read them the book, "Lifetimes," the beautiful way to explain death to children. It explained in a sensitive caring manner how all living things have a beginning (birth) an ending (death) and inbetween the two is living. The children were in agreement that Scruffy had a very happy life and that they all loved him and he loved them.

The children were Scruffy's "pack;" he adored them; he so looked forward to Monday when the children came back to school after the weekend. Scruffy exemplied unconditional love; he allowed the children to do anything to him, he never whimpered or growled. It was all just fun to Scruffy.

Because of the outpouring of love, support and empathy from you parents, the children, my neighbors and friends, I was able to let go of the feelings of guilt over Scruffy's death. It was a horrible accident and I have learned my lesson well.

Scruffy will forever live in our hearts and memories. The beautiful flowers will be planted in the side garten by the pres-chool; Melinda and Greg have made a plaque in memory of Scruffy to put in the garden. All the cards and pictures will go in Scruffy's scrap book; the pictures of Scruffy's first Birthday party and the cards that the children and parents made for Scruffy are there. The pictures of the children and Scruffy do show what a loved and happy dog Scruffy was. I am thankful he never suffered. The children and Scruffy each enriched each other lives. It's called "Living."