That is my Xila dog. She no longer is with me. She and I were struck by a hit-and-run driver on October 28th less than a block from our Baltimore home. I was knocked out of my shoes and landed on my back. Xila (shy’luh) must have been struck, too, because the next time I saw her she was lying on her side near the curb--maybe 5-10 yards from me. There were half a dozen people tending her. Xila did not live long after I saw her by the curb. Fortunately, she was surrounded by kind people when she died.

My sister gave Xila to me about ten years ago. She had rescued Xila from a married couple who were splitting up. When my sister realized she was not over the deaths of her two dogs, I added Xila to my growing menagerie of Smokey the dog and Rosie the cat. I don’t know how old Xila was when I adopted her, but I think she as about 12 when she died.

Xila and I walked often. She had arthritis and she got a shot every month to lessen the pain and to improve her mobility; she had gotten her shot the previous day. In addition to arthritis, Xila had problems controlling her bladder and, occasionally, her bowels. She was on meds for her bladder but the uncontrolled bowel movements were infrequent, unpredictable and had only recently started. So, to minimize indoor accidents, Xila and I took frequent short walks…and she always, always, always was ready for her walks.

Her arthritis, bladder and bowel problems were starting to raise questions for me about her quality of life…not that we were close to a trip to the Rainbow Bridge, just that I knew I had to at least think about preparing for that day.

You see, I had lost a dog (my L dog) to bone cancer the previous October, and I wanted to do everything possible to make sure all my pets had the best quality of life possible—up to and including a peaceful and loving final time with me at our vet. I took L to the vet where he made sure she had as little pain as possible her last 24 hours. And when it was time, I lay on the floor next to her and petted her while she passed away. I could not hold her because she had a broken leg and was in pain. But I could pet her and talk to her and love her. And that is what I did.

Xila and I had had a great October. Because I knew she liked chicken breasts, I was supplementing all of her meals of regular food with pressure-cooked, boneless, skinless chicken breasts, white rice, and the cooking broth. I don’t usually do that unless the dogs have diarrhea. But something just led me to prepare my Xila dog chicken breasts. I’d let her eat as much as she would on her own before offering to spoon feed her. And know what? With spoon feeding, she almost always ate every bit of the food in her bowl. That always made me feel good. And when one of my pets got chicken, all three did. It also meant I might get chicken sandwiches for breakfast or lunch—maybe mayo, maybe butter and always on Dave’s Killer White Bread. So, October was a month of special treats at mealtime.

Xila and I were walking across 25th Street here in Baltimore’s Barclay around 10:30 pm when I saw two square headlights coming directly at us. The impact sent me airborne. The driver didn’t slow down or stop; it,,just…kept…going….

Next thing I knew, I was on my back in the middle of a four-lane road with traffic still moving. I could not stand up. There was a man standing over me directing traffic to go around me while I pushed my body to the curb with my good right leg. (I would find out at the Emergency Department that my left ankle and right wrist were broken.) I moved as far out of traffic as I could and looked around for Xila. She was lying on her right side near the curb. She wasn’t alone. Other passersby had stopped and were comforting her—they were squatting down around her and I think they were petting her.

Someone came over to me and said she was alive and breathing. I should have tried harder to get to her. I am so sorry that I didn't; I just did not think my Xila dog was going to die like that; I was wrong. I expected Xila to go like L did. That is how I expect Rosie and Blue to go, too--before I die and in a calm, peaceful environment. Not on a street after being injured by a car driven by a hit-and-run driver.

I have no idea how long I lay in the middle of the road. One guy gave me a scrap of paper with what I think he said was a report number. But I never saw or talked to a cop. Then someone told me Xila had died.

What do you do when you are lying on your back in an intersection with broken bones in your wrist and ankle and you get that bad news. You try to make arrangements to protect her body before the EMTs take you to the hospital. You ask someone to make sure her body is taken from the street and is protected. Since I had lost L the previous October, I knew what would be done. Xila would be cremated. I explained to one of the strangers and gave them my address and phone number. Then the EMTs arrived and I took a 20-minute ride to Johns Hopkins Emergency Department at 1800 Orleans.

A few days later, my wrist and ankle had been set and I had replaced the cell phone I had misplaced earlier the day of the hit-and-run. The phone was important so that I could keep up with what was happening at home and with Xila’s cremation. My neighbors, including the ones I could match to their homes but whose names I did not know, were taking care of Rosie and Blue for me and keeping an eye on my house while I was recovering from my injuries and from losing Xila like that.

At this point, I am home from the hospital and am going in twice a week for therapists to change the dressings on some leg wounds. My wrist still is in a cast, but it’s a smaller one than when I was hospitalized. Medicare covers most of my medical expenses, but not all of them. And our president and his attorney general have declared they are not going to enforce the laws against large corporations. Those cases were my income source. That’s why I am posting this Go Fund Me request. I would greatly appreciate any help you can give. Thanks, Tim