Yesterday Was a Day I Hope to Forget!

This is me....

and I'm going to tell you the story of my yesterday. It's a day I hope to forget for the rest of my life. 

It began like every other day, Boss at the wheel and me warmed up after a cold night outside. Sometimes Boss brings the young one along while the old lady rests peacefully on the driveway relishing her time away from the spunky teen. Traveling is hard for the old lady you know; she is a sweet 94 years old, 13 1/2 in dog years! Does she recall her rides in my predecessor when she looks longingly at me as Boss puts her sister in the passenger seat? Dr. K says she has dementia.

Today, both girls stayed back because Boss didn't want the youngster setting off the car alarm yet again. I tell her not to jump around the seats but she does. Typical!

The Boss and I slowly pull into the driveway after our errands and the girls, as always, are walking towards me. I can see them both with my eyes and Boss is careful when pulling in but it's routine for them to greet us at the walkway, tails a waggin'.The rest is a blur to me.

My front wheel feels stuck like it's run into a small snow bank. Strange. I hear the most oil curdling cry I could ever imagine. Boss freezes for a moment as she hears the same and quickly opens her door to look. The sound of Boss' screams echo through the neighborhood and will inside me forever.

The sweet old lady must have slipped on that patch of ice on the driveway at the precise moment we roll in. I'm resting on her leg and she is crying. Boss throws me in reverse, then picks up all 75 pounds of the old lady in one heave to rest her in my rear seat. Thank goodness the doctor is just three short blocks away. Boss is screaming, "Oh no, oh no!".

Sometimes, Dr. K say, a car can roll over a 5 pound dog and not break a thing. We're lucky. Nothing is broken even though my full weight was on top of her leg. The only damage is a tear in the skin which gets sutured up. He says she'll be sore for awhile. Boss says, "Of course she will be, I just ran her over", with tears running down her face.

Our sweet old lady cried all night and is sleeping the day away. This could have turned out much differently and I thank God for the outcome. It was a bad, bad day for me! True story of my yesterday...

Write On Edge

 Do objects have a memory? Does a rocking chair hold the essence of the snuggles it has witnessed? Does a pottery mug remember the comforting warmth it offered a struggling soul?

The dictionary defines personification as “the attribution of a personal nature or human characteristics to something nonhuman, or the representation of an abstract quality in human form.”

Tell a piece of your story from the point of view of an object who bore witness in 400 words or less.