A couple days ago, I was watching the construction going on out a window, taking photographs and shooting videos when a cop car sped onto the street and told the big dump truck that was only sticking out into the road a few feet to move.
He promptly did, parking on the road which actually took up much more of it, but fortunately didn't impede the next cop car, small firetruck, another cop car, and eventually 2 ambulances that went to the top of the street.
They were there for a long time. I thought no one could be seriously injured because the ambulances didn't blaze out with lights and sirens going.
Today we were speculating about what might have happened. A kitchen fire perhaps, maybe smoke inhalation to deal with or things to be moved outside. Whether Roscoe was okay, either freaked out by the ruckus or wanting to greet all the emergency responders.
I voiced the stray thought that the emergency vehicles wouldn't rush out if someone was already dead.
Horribly that turned out to be the case. It's not like my thought today caused anything to happen, well, ever, or a few days ago, but it still felt awful to have had that thought and been right.
I read his obituary and when I got to the survived by section, and they included Roscoe, their beloved family dog, I burst into tears.
I'm still crying now.
I didn't know him well but he was always nice when I saw him when I was out walking. He'd always say, "Roscoe, look who it is, go say hi to Claire."