It all began when I woke up a half-hour later than I was supposed to. My roommates had already left for breakfast, so I rushed to get dressed, pack my bag and started heading out the door.
For the past week, we've been walking to and from the dig site, rather than driving. It takes nearly a half hour to walk there, maybe less if you walk fast
I figured everyone else would have been at the site, or at least on their way, by now. So I picked up my pace as I gnawed on my apple.
I got about three-quarters of the way there, to the point where I could just make out the red dig house, when I saw further down a cluster of things in the middle of the road. It was very hot that morning, and you could see the heat rising from the road, so I thought maybe I was just seeing things.
But as I got closer, I noticed the cluster moving toward the opposite side of the road, and it looked like a group of people. I was still too far away to recognize anyone, so I figured it was probably the Romanian volunteers, or perhaps a group of tourists.
I neared closer until I could make out some familiar faces. It was some of my group, John and Mihail, crowded around something. I crossed the road so I could join them. Ed and Ryan saw me and immediately came over before I could get any closer.
"You don't want to go over there," Ed said.
"What? Why?" I asked.
"Just trust us," Ryan said.
That's when I saw blood on the road, and my first thought was that one of us got hit by a car.
I was wrong. But not by much.
Despite Ryan and Ed's warnings, I looked over where everyone was standing and saw something black on the grass.
"One of the dogs got hit," Ryan said.
"Which one? Charlie?" I asked.
"No. Jenny."
We have become attached to quite a few stray animals in Murighiol. But none like Jenny. Jenny is still a puppy, only a couple years old. She looks like a mix between a lab and a golden, but she is all black. She always lays down on her back when you approach her, and her big brown eyes look up at you as you rub her soft belly. She is the sweetest thing and has only love for people.
Apparently, Jenny had followed the group on their walk to the site, most of which is on a busy road where people drive no less than 70 km/hr. John has told us not to bring animals to the site because of this busy road, but you have to understand it is difficult to make them not follow.
From what I am told, she had started to cross the road when a car started coming down the road ahead. The group tried to call her back, out of the road. But she got in between and the next thing they heard was a loud thump. The driver was going 80 km, John says, and didn't even slow down- let alone stop- to see what he had done. It was a hit and run. And he kept on driving.
I arrived a few minutes after the fact, and saw her laying motionless on the side of the road, blood spurting from her mouth and wounds. Some thought she was already dead.
But then she got up. Staggered a few feet, and then dropped, breathing heavily. John picked her up and we walked with him to the dig site, where he laid her down in the shade. We kissed her nose, petted her bloody fur and tried to give her water from the well, but she wouldn't drink. John and Mihail were examining her, trying to feel for any broken bones.
She had been hit hard, and was definitely hurt, but they said there didn't seem to be any broken bones. The bleeding from her mouth had stopped, which gave hope that there was no internal bleeding. And she seemed to gain more consciousness by the minute.
Still, she needed medical attention. But would she survive the trip to a vet? We didn't know, but all agreed it was worth a try.
Mihail called the nearest vet to let him know we were coming. John, Bogdan (one of the Romanian students) and Kate took her in Bogdan's car to the next town over, Mahmudia.
We all were shaken up, some more than others. But we were given clear instructions to either finish our trenches or go home.
We started work on our trenches to take our mind off Jenny. It was ort last day on site, and we were just doing finishing touches before photographing; brushing, shaving, edging, flat shoveling. We anxiously awaited news from John.
Time passed in an odd way then. Thinking back, it felt like that somber morning was a completely separate day. But in the moment, it felt like no time passed at all; as if time had just stopped.
John rounded the corner of the fort wall. We all dropped our tools and climbed out of our trenches to hear the news.
The doctor said there weren't any broken bones, but just internal contusions, and that she would be fine in a few days with some shots and plenty of rest. We all let out a huge sigh of relief. She was one hell of a lucky dog. And strong-willed, too.
The doctor gave her a shot that day, and said she would have to come back he next for a second one. The total cost of the vet bill- get ready for this- was 50 lei. That's 13.20 USD. Crazy, right? It makes me nuts though because I realized how cheap it would be for Romania to take better care of their strays, like Greece does. But they don't. I hope that will someday change.
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