Is that whether you want to belive it or not- many people share your private moments within the moments of their own lives- like it or not...I had one dog in my lifetime- a beagle-labrador mix that I was able to pick right from the litter at my Uncle Perry's house when I was 11 years old. I named the tiny puppy 'Brownie'- and I loved Brownie as hard as any little girl with an absent father and very busy mother could and would love a puppy.As Brownie grew- he resembled a Lab much more than a beagle- beautiful in his lines and modest in his movements. He loved to chew rawhide bones and he loved to sleep near me, while I slept through the night.I loved this animal. I do positively remember feeling so lucky to have been permitted to have him; I realized that there was some expense involved with feeding him and keeping him well as far as vet appointments went. We were a very low income family- so it meant something to me that my mother would take on a dog.Brownie lived to be just over a year old.We lived right along Route 22 going through New Alexandria- and one cold January morning Brownie after having been left out to 'go pee' ran around a high snowdrift in front of our house only to find himself in the middle of a very busy highway.Now as I type this, tear are sprining into my eyes- when exactly last have I thought of my dog? Two years ago? Four?The woman who came to our door was hysterical. Brownie, dressed in his little red sweater that I carefully crocheted for him with my own little girl paws, with his many ID tags looped through his collar, lay dead or dying out in front of my house along Route 22.In this particular apartment, we lived on the second floor, so my mother had to walk down about 15 steps to answer the door when this woman rang to ask if the dog she'd just hit was ours...Now in the moments before this happened, I was sitting in our living room, which was on the side of the house facing the highway, reading a Nancy Drew novel. I will never forget those few moments.I heard the screech of tires on the highway outside- which wasn't unusual given we lived right near the highway.But when I heard those noises- I just had this feeling...What could have only been moments after I heard the screeching noises of a person hitting their brakes outside- our doorbell rang.Before my mother even reached the door I ran to the front window.Outside, laying in the highway, I saw the body of my dog.I cannot even type out the proper words to describe how I felt in the moments following.I do remember a strange woman coming into our living room and putting her arms around me. I remember her tears on my hair. I realized after she left that she'd cried on my hair. It was all wet in the place her face went against my shoulder...Muse