The Accident

On Monday, Hunter was scheduled in to be neutered! Finally! Normally, animals are spayed or neutered when they are 6 months of age, to hopefully catch them before they blossom into full blown sexual maturity. With the police dogs, as mentioned before, they are left intact as it is believed that this promotes stronger drive and a more aggressive dog for criminal pursuit. The topic is controversial, but that's beside the point.
Since Hunter has been deemed to never be a working dog again (not that he ever really was one yet...) and will not be categorized as a 'pet', neutering needed to happen. German Sheperd Dogs don't have the best reputation in the world - and in my eyes, their reputation could be worse than that of the infamous Pitbull. But this post isn't about breed profiling either.
Because of this strike against Hunter's breed, and due to the fact that he has been bred to be a very intense, highly prey driven dog, neutering will hopefully help us curb, or hopefully control some of Hunter's energy and drive more appropriately (Not to mention prevent many future health concerns related to intact pets).
So, early Monday morning I loaded both dogs into the truck. Hunter had not been fed breakfast in preparation for his surgery, and although he was confused with the change in his normal morning routine, he didn't seem too bothered by his empty stomach. Buster was coming along to get his Kennel Cough vaccine that afternoon, and to keep me company for the day.
We drove an hour and half to Steeples Vet Clinic in Cranbrook. The drive went well, despite the dump of snow the Kootenay's had recieved that weekend, and we arrived in Cranbrook right on time for Hunter's appointment.
With Hunter dropped off, Buster and I set off to keep ourselves busy for the 6 hour wait. After a nice long walk, a yummy Starbucks while reading my novel, it was time to pick-up Hunter.
His surgery went fine, no complications, and although he was a bit groggy, he marched out the door not knowing that he'd left two of his little friends behind forever...
We headed home for Creston at around 3:20pm, expecting to be home just before 5pm. It had warmed up a lot throughout the day, and the roads were very slushy and wet with melting snow. No evidence of ice, the drive home was going fairly well.
There are a lot of truckers that take Highway 3 in the Kootenays, which can make for slow going, but there are some nice straight stretches that make passing safe.
About 20 minutes away from Creston, we found ourselves stuck behind a big rig truck, getting slush, dirt and gravel thrown at us. As I mentioned, the roads looked good and not slippery so I pulled out to pass (I drive a F150, and feel pretty safe in it).
As I hit the gas to accelerate pass this truck I just remember my ass-end swinging very quickly out behind me as I hit a patch of black ice, putting me almost 90 degrees straight across the highway. The rest is a bit of a blur. I'm sure I gropped at the wheel trying to straighten the truck out, but we were too far gone. After some snaking around the highway, the truck tires finally grabbed some traction, headed straight across the highway, back to my original lane and right over the embankment into the ditch.
I can remember thinking "Oh my God. This is it. I'm going to die right now." As we went down the bank it feel pretty certain that we were going to roll; the bank was just too steep not to. Luckily, due to the high level of heavy snow, we slowed down very quickly once we hit it, and managed to get wedged very tightly on a 35 degree angle in the snow at the bottom of the ditch.
When the truck came to a halt I remember my arm being out trying to protect Buster from hitting the windsheild (he was riding shotgun which he never is allowed to do normally). As the reality of the situation hit me, I began to shake very violently. I couldn't even pet Buster to reassure him, couldn't manage to pick up my phone (which had made it's way across the truck into the pocket of the backseat door) or do anything. It took me a minute or do to regain my composure and grab my cellphone. Of course, no cell reception. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I couldn't just sit in my truck so I crawled out the door and scrambled up the embankment. Two amazing gentlemen, who had seen the accident, had stopped to make sure I was OK. While I talked with one, the other told me he was headed into town and would give me and the dogs a lift there. I agreed and managed to help Buster, and a sleepy, stunned Hunter up the hill and into his vehicle.
I got back to town, and although was a bit shaky and had shed a couple tears, was quite calm. Of course, the second the man (Rick, bless his soul) dropped me off at home and I saw Chris I lost all composure.
It all hit me like sack of bricks, that Oh my God, I could have died today. What if there had been a vehicle in oncoming traffic (of course, pulling out to pass, there wouldn't have been, but still). What if we had rolled? What if my two precious dogs had been injured? I could never live with myself if I had put them in any harm. What if I never saw my husband again? I hadn't even told him I loved him that day.
Thankfully, my husband is a very stable person, and he arranged for the tow truck to haul me out of the ditch and went to go pickup the truck with a close friend of ours.
My girlfriend came over the instant I texted her and kept me company while I waited for Chris to get home. She talked me through my emotional collapses, and helped me to see that yes, it could have been a really horrible, fatal situation, but it wasn't and that was for a reason. That yes, I am supposed to be here right now.
Today, I am still in shock at what happened. Everytime I close my eyes, the accident replays over and over again. I still don't know why I wasn't hurt yesterday. It seems like I should have been considering the circumstances. But I wasn't. And God, am I grateful for that. Am I grateful that I woke up this morning and my husband was there beside me. That I could hug my dogs today.
It really puts things into perspective, that wow, all of this could so EASILY be ripped away from you at any given instant. I feel truly blessed that I am here, and I am unharmed (shaken up, definetely)
As cheesy as it sounds, I know that someone up there is looking over me and protecting me.