I think it's time to write this down. I remember my childhood in fuzzy clips, I think the most impacting things stayed with me, but attempting to remember the rest is like holding a handful of sand in the ocean. It just doesn't stay with me.
This particular memory comes around the time I was probably between 6 and 8 years old. We had a dog named Goldie and she'd had a litter of puppies; it was the middle of the sweltering summer and so she had them under the trailer where it was coolest. We kept climbing under there through the spiders and dirt on our elbows and taking them out and putting them in the dog house. We wanted to watch her and make sure they didn't get dirt up their noses and suffocate and so on. Well, the back and forth went on for about three rounds and finally we locked her in the dog pen and put the baby pups in the little white plywood dog house with her; we made sure she had lots of water and we put a fan in the dog house so the air would circulate and it wouldn't be so hot. It was probably in the 110's or 115's. This is undoubtedly one of my most tragic memories. We locked her up so she couldn't protect her pups and keep them cool. I went out to check on them the following afternoon and the whole litter was laying in there with Goldie, every last puppy was dead. She was just laying there with them, panting, looking at me. I don't recall ever feeling such remorse as I felt then, even to this day. I ran and told my mom and she came out and tried to resuscitate them, she put her mouth around their tiny muzzles and breathed in and she was crying and I was beyond crying but there was no saving them.
I have always felt responsible for the genocide of those little babies. I just couldn't leave them alone under the trailer where she knew they had most chance of survival. We locked her up in the dog pen and they suffered a terrible scorching death. Every time I think about it I still cry.