Gumbo wants to see the world.

This morning's events will haunt us for a long time to come. Gumbo was hit by a car. Early this morning, he bolted around Carter's legs and out the back door, sprinting across the street and down the sidewalk. I imagine he was headed to Murphy's (his golden retriever wrestling buddy's) house. Carter took off after him and caught him at the corner a block away. As he walked in the door carrying Gumbo, we looked at each other and said, "What the hell was that?!"

When we first brought Gumbo home from the shelter he tried this stunt a couple times, but was slow enough for one of us to tackle him before he got to the street. Since then, he's always calmly walked out the door and then dropped to the ground the second we called his name. Not this morning. He seemed to believe that if he could do it once, he could do it again, and maybe this time, he could get enough of a head start. Hawthorne opened the door, Gumbo bolted out of it at a full sprint and hit the street just as a car sped by our driveway. Carter and I were right behind him after he ran out the door. We didn't see the car hit him. We did hear the howls for help coming from the other side of the street, and it is the memory of that sound that makes my stomach lurch and my eyes fill with tears.

Carter tenderly scooped him up as I ran between the house and car trying to figure out who would take him to the emergency vet and what we would do with the kids, grabbing keys, a credit card, and a phone, seeming to believe that if my feet were moving, something was being done. Ultimately, I ended up behind the wheel with Gumbo in the passenger seat, and Carter was left at home, worried that he may lose his wife and his dog in a car accident. I drove quickly with one hand on the wheel and the other on Gumbo's chest, singing "Amazing Grace" and "Black Bird" in a very shaky voice, hoping that just my voice would comfort Gumbo, make him hold on.

As we paced in the exam room, Carter and I were quiet, each thinking about similar trips with our first dog, Lupe, and our second dog, Kizzy. We thought about how glad we were that we weren't in an emergency room panicked over the injuries of one of our children. We thought about how much we invest in the animals in our lives and how their innocence and dependence can make us angry at a world full of people who don't do the things they should.

Gumbo was treated for shock, given pain medicine, and x-rayed. He has a dislocated hip and a fractured pelvis. This evening, they'll put him out and try to get his hip back in place. Tomorrow morning, we'll take him to our vet to determine what to do next. And for years, we'll remember the day our dog was hit by a person who never stopped and we'll shutter at the memory of his howls that called for help.