My dog was lost for three days. What came back wasn't my dog.

8

Just as I was pulling off onto the cement, I felt something hard hit the back windshield, sending broken glass into the passengers seat. I only got a glimpse of the deer's decapitated head catching on unbroken glass and tumbling into the back seat. I cried for most of the way home, hands clenching the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white.

I wish I could leave this off with a positive note, /nosleep/. I wish I could tell you that I found Sandy at home, waiting for me. I wish I could tell you that was the end of it, a traumatizing experience in the woods that I'll get over with time.

Last night, I found it hard to sleep. I kept replaying the entirety of my trip to Kelly's Mountain in my head. I figured I wouldn't be sleeping for a while, and laid there, listening to the wind through my open window.

I could've sworn I heard the whistle I used to call my dog with, coming from the forests edge.

If you go on trips with your dog, /nosleep/, I advise that you don't let them out of your sight for too long. What comes back might not be your dog.