**Don't want to terrify you. If you didn't catch the acronym in the post title, this is not Baby Blakely related.**
You know that feeling, when your heart sinks down past your stomach & into your feet? I got it this afternoon when Rob called me. I didn't even have to listen to what he said-- the sheer panic in his voice let me know that there was something really wrong.
We lost the puppy today.
And when I say lost, I only wish I meant that we couldn't find him.
Rob found him, in our backyard, not breathing. He tried to revive him but realized that he had been gone for some time, and there was nothing he could do. That's when I received his phone call, telling me to get home, that the puppy was dead.
It's taken us a few hours to piece together what we think happened. I didn't want to see the puppy, but the only way that Rob could deal with this was to figure out what happened to him. So we talked, and surveyed the yard, and Rob looked at this puppy's precious little body over and over-- until we came to some conclusions. Honestly, I wish we hadn't figured it out.
The puppy has multiple puncture wounds in three places on his neck and a bite on his leg. When we left, all three dogs were playing happily together. When we returned, the little one was gone. One of our dogs killed this puppy. I can't tell you how hard that is to write. I'm suspicious and ashamed of both of them right now, not to mention hysterically upset.
There aren't enough words to describe how we are feeling right now. Shocked, horrified & devastated don't even scratch the surface.