As I held a tiny cute puppy in my hands, I called David (we had just got engaged) and asked him to come and meet me in a parking lot. I wouldn't tell him why, just that I needed to talk to him.
That was the summer of 2006 I was leading a young girl's lifegroup. We ended up at Target one night, and saw a lady trying to give away a beagle puppy. The girls went crazy over this puppy and talked me into keeping it. Since the youth group at our church is called Switch, they thought it only appropriate to name this sweet puppy Switch. She was 7 weeks old.
When David pulled up, I explained the situation and showed him the puppy. I thought he may get upset, but if you know David, he rarely gets upset about anything. That was the start of our CRAZY life with Switch. She was super spirited, ALL BEAGLE, loved to sniff and chase, getting out of any fence you put around her.
We finally decided about 6 months ago that she really needed to live on some sort of farm. Somewhere she could come and go as she pleased, with no boundaries. Our house has a huge backyard, with a field full of rabbits just behind it, and a very busy street to the side. We knew the situation wouldn't lead anywhere good.
Friday September 9th we got home from our softball game, and I let both dogs out to the backyard. Seajay did her business and was let back in, Switch had got out of the yard again (an every day thing at this point) and so we just waited for her to get back.
About and hour later my phone rang. It was my mom calling and I knew that with how late the phone call was coming, it had to be bad news. She wouldn't talk to me, just asked for David. As I sat there waiting, I knew. I knew something had happened to Switch. My mom was on her way home, and had found her in the road. Switch had been hit by a car and died. I can only assume, believe, hope, that she was chasing a rabbit and it ran across the street. Mom pulled over, picked her up, called David and waited for him to come get her.
David buried her in the field behind our house. Her rabbit field. I still can't believe she's gone forever. Sometimes I look out our bedroom window which overlooks the field and I expect to see her out there. My heart still hurts for that silly, mischevious, aggravating, sweet dog.
