About Scooby...

Yesterday morning I took Beauregard for his morning walk. We went out a different way and I was planning on jogging home. As I turned to corner back into my neighborhood I saw something wierd, that I still can't identify in my head and heard I dog yelping and then saw him running in circles in the center of the street until he collapsed. Because I had Beau, I hung back while he was yelping and running. When he collapsed we ran, sprinted as much as I can sprint to get to him. He was down. He was a brindle pit bull with beautiful blue eyes. I knew he was in trouble, so I told him to hang tight, I'd be back. There were some landscapers hanging around and I told them to call the police. I'm sure they were illegal. They didn't. Jackasses. You can't live here if you have this little compassion for a poor animal dying right in front of you. I ran home got my truck and came back to take him to the vet, but he was dead. I had to fight with some idiot Mexican to get him to help me get him into the truck.
Will you help me?
No.
No? Are you freaking nuts? Do you want to leave this poor animal in the middle of the street?
No.
Then help me.
No.
Habla Inglis?
No.
Pero Muerto.
Si.
Then I motioned that I wanted him to help me put the dog in the back of my truck, and he did. Gracias. Dumbass.

Scooby, I'm sorry, I tried. Rest in peace buddy.