moments of guilt

It's raining outside. Well, more like misting. I have a leash wrapped tightly around my right arm, attached to it is a 50lb mut of a dog. My left arm has a boston terrier and a papillon fighting over who gets to walk first. I'm stopped at an intersection getting ready to take a right and cross the street. A black nondescript car comes to the intersection. Without so much as yielding the car full of people takes a right and cuts me off. I take a step backwards and shake my head, so much for pedestrian right away. I watch the two smug business men in the front not even skip a beat in their conversation. "Assholes" I think to myself.

I catch a glimpse of a woman sitting in the backseat. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail, or maybe a bun I can't tell. She looks young, her face isn't worn. As she passes in the car, I watch as she mouths the words "I'm sorry." I can see the guilt in her eyes for what the assholes up front had done.

I often have moments like this. Times where I wish I could rewind just two seconds of time and take back the smallest of actions to alleviate guilt that I know is going to weigh on my chest.

Yesterday I was standing on the lawn of one of my clients. I had just set the meatball of a pug down when I saw a silver car pull up to the fence. A woman leans out the window and asks if I've seen a loose german shepard. I tell her no, unfortunately. She says thank you and to keep my eyes open, then drives away. I take the meatball back into the house and think on how awful it is to worry about a missing pet.

I leave a note for my client, set the security alarm, and lock the door behind me. I get into my car and start the engine. The metal cd I was listening to blasts in my face and I turn it down just in time to see a large furry creature moving to my left. I give a start and shut off the car. It's the german shepard.

I get out of my car and join in with a young barefooted woman that's in pursuit of the dog. The dog speeds up, so leaving the barefooted woman behind (a friendly neighbor who doesn't want to see the dog get lost) I speed up and follow the dog. I'm not a jogger. My throat starts to burn, I'm sweating and my shins are killing me. My worn in pumas aren't the best support for this sort of thing. I lose the dog at a fork in the road.

I turn around reluctantly and start the over 5 minute walk back to my car. Heeving and hoing. I run into the barefooted woman. She's in her red suv now, still determined to be in persuit. I tell her where I last saw the dog, in between panting breathes. I get back to my car and have a moment of internal dialogue. Should I go after the dog or not? I choose not to, and drive off.

I've felt guilty for the past day and a half over not returning to the dog hunt.  

Today.

I'm stopped at a red light. It's a 3 lane highway and I'm in the 4th lane, it's a left turn only lane.

There's a green arrow blaring in the traffic light. The silver car in front of me won't move. I honk, it inches forward. I draw my attention to the far left. Over the other 3 lanes of traffic on the other side I see what's keeping the car from moving.

A funeral procession is ignoring all traffic lights and forging onwards. It's prevented the woman from taking the left. Our green arrow turns to yellow, then a red light. I put my car in reverse and back up, giving the woman in the silver car room to back up as well. I want to get out and tell the woman I'm sorry, that I take my honk back.

I feel awfully guilty.