Prince

We always had a dog from my early teens. 

The first one we had was a corgi cross called Prince.

He was a lovely nature and I bonded with him closely.

We were always together for the short time we had him.

His fur was thick and soft and offered some welcome warmth and closeness.

Our road, a little cul de sac, ended next to a busy dual carriage way, there was an opening in the railings people would use as a cut through from the estate to the main road and bus route into town.

I would walk Prince in the day but last thing at night when he needed to be let out, instead of using the garden for some reason it quickly became a habit of my Father`s to open the front door, let him out by himself and call him in after a few minutes. 

Sometimes he would just trot back himself.

On the night of Christmas Eve I woke to the doorbell and then voices downstairs.

I faintly heard them talking about an accident, a dead dog but I was so tired I fell back to sleep and in the morning, it being Christmas day it all seemed like a dream.

It wasn`t.

My Father took me on his lap and told me Prince had got onto the main road last night and been knocked down. The Police found him at the side of the road.

He had his address on his collar.

I saw my Father cry for the first time ever that morning.

I still have Princes unopened present that was under the tree.

An adult now I can grasp what an irresponsible thing it was to let a dog lose so close to a very busy and fast road. It was dangerous for the dog and the drivers.

All because neither could bother walking him last thing.

I loved that dog.