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Dammit... I hit a dog on the road tonight 
Every Friday night, I drive to my wife's farm. It's usually an uneventful journey, along a highway flanked by guardrails but no shoulder lanes. Now, thinking back, those damn guardrails seem like the very edge of a precipice as there's no room to swerve in an emergency.
Now, I obey the speed limits, drive safely, and all that. Tonight, though, it wasn't enough: out of nowhere, a dog launched itself from under the guardrail into the road, a mere heartbeat away from my car. My foot slammed down on the brakes instinctively, but at 80 kilometres per hour in the fast lane, all I could do was brace for impact. The dog, startled by the screeching tyres, ran but collided with my right fog light, tumbled into the adjacent lane, miraculously scrambled to its feet and, with a final burst of energy, bolted off into the darkness.
I wanted to stop, to help, to do something, but the road's unforgiving design left no place for refuge. By the time I found a spot to pull over safely, there was no canine in sight, leaving only the echo of my wife's panicked screams as she clung to the aftermath. She's adamant the dog must have died of haemorrhaging, as the bumper is about as wrecked as a Kardashian's relationship... so it's safe to say the three of us, pooch included, have had better Fridays 
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