“I can’t stand that dog, so I thought I’d do something about it. Still, if I’d realized the outcome, I never would have acted.”
There was Harry, the bus driver, behind the controls with that large golden retriever, Larry, sitting beside him in the front.
Every single day, my seven-year-old Lily boards that bus, and each day I have to put up with seeing that ANIMAL in the front seat.
To me, it seemed like a glaring safety problem.
What if the dog became aggressive? What if a child experienced a severe allergy? I had reached out to the school board on two occasions, but my concerns were dismissed.
Today marked the final straw.
I tailed the bus to school, marched past the secretary, and slammed my palm down on Principal Miller’s desk.
“Either Harry goes and the dog is off the bus immediately, or I’ll notify the local news and pull my daughter from this place,” I asserted, voice shaking with anger.
Principal Miller met my words with not irritation, but a grave sadness that threw me off guard.
With a sigh, he rubbed his temples and softly closed his laptop.
He looked at me and said, “Sit down, Sarah.
There’s something you NEED to know about Harry, and why the dog is there.
If, after hearing me out, you want him gone, I’ll sign the TERMINATION papers myself.”
Unsettled, my heart flipped. I sat down, unsure of the story to come.⬇️