Disclaimer: I don't own Frank or Callie. The dog is mine. Brooke and Shelby are actually real people, but I've changed their names. Just in case.

Author's Notes: This is an actual event that happened to me and my husband yesterday morning. I started writing out what happened, as a bit of therapy to deal with this, and it turned into this one-shot. There is no particular reason why I chose Frank and Callie, instead of any other pairing.

Journal Miracle

January 31

Callie Hardy pulled out her journal and sat down on her bed. She sighed heavily, her head aching, but not near as much as her heart. She sprawled out across the bed on her stomach and picked up the pen. It had been a terrible morning, and a very long day. Her mother used to tell her, "Write out your problems. You'll find a miracle at the end of each one."

So she wrote.

This morning, Frank and I were getting close to leaving for work, when he noticed Lorien had gotten off her holder.

Callie stopped writing. "Holder?" she said out loud. She didn't really know what to call it. Just a bunch of metal wiring twisted together and encased by cotton padding and plastic. She shrugged. "I know what it means. But I'll look it up later. Or ask Frank," she resolved. She continued writing.

Frank went to check on her in the backyard, then came inside to fill up a container for her water, which lately, due to the extreme cold, has been frozen every morning. While he was in the kitchen, I was in our bedroom getting my stuff together for work, running just a minute or two behind. That's when I heard the horrible noises.

Tires squealed, a horrible loud thud from an impact, and a dog's yelp. It took a moment to register, and then, as I realized what might have happened, my stomach dropped and my heart raced. I ran to the front door and looked out. All I could see was a woman bent over, screaming and crying and holding her head.

And a small, blonde lump lying on the side of the road.

I remember shouting something like "Oh God, Frank! Lorien's been hit by a car!" or something to that effect. I could be wrong, but it doesn't matter now.

Anyway, Frank FLEW past me and outside. Literally. FLEW.

Callie laid the pen down, feeling the tears springing to her eyes, once again. She'd cried all day, off and on. It had been less than ten hours, but it might have only been ten minutes.

She sat up slowly, reaching for a tissue from the box next to her side of the bed. She glanced out the bedroom window which overlooked their backyard. She could see Lorien sleeping in front of the doghouse.

Lorien was Frank's pride. They had been given Lorien when she was just a few months old. Now, the yellow Labrador was about seven months old, and extremely playful. Frank had been working on training her, and she responded well to him. Callie wasn't usually fond of dogs, but Lorien had stolen her heart in no time.

As she watched Lorien, she could just hear the horrible sounds playing over and over in her head. Every time, she felt sick to her stomach.

Callie shook her head, trying to clear out the memory. She sighed, turning back to her journal entry.

I quickly grabbed my jacket and ran outside.

There Lorien was, lying on the ground on her side, eyes open, but not moving. The lady was crying and holding her head, nearly in shock. By the time I got there, Frank was already kneeling next to the lady and Lorien.

When I saw Lorien just lying there, I thought she was dead. I don't know if I kept running, or stopped on the spot, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

I realized suddenly that I was kneeling between Frank and the lady, whose name was Brooke. Lorien hadn't moved, but we could all tell she was breathing, which definitely was a good sign.

The next five or so minutes (I guess it really could have been much longer…) were a blur. Our next door neighbor showed up, on her way to work, and stopped to see if she could help. Thank goodness for wonderful neighbors.

Shelby helped Frank carry Lorien to the back of his vehicle, while I comforted Brooke. She was scared to death, and I was too, but consoling her kept my mind off my worst fears.

Brooke constantly apologized, and I tried to reassure her. Because we live on a curve at the top of the hill, it's difficult to see. Not to mention the morning's winter sun shines directly in your eyes when you come around that corner.

The last words blurred as Callie's eyes burned and watered, yet again. "The one time she gets loose…" her voice caught in her throat. She wiped her eyes and inked more thoughts on to the lined paper.

Shelby left for work and Frank walked back to us. I have to admit, I was scared to death. And I was scared to look at Lorien, afraid of what I might see. But Frank said she was sitting up and looking around. He guided us over to see her.

I smiled at our Lorien, until I saw her face. She could barely open her eyes and hold her head up. She had a bleeding spot above one eye, and a bloody spot between her eyes, but higher. She looked… awful.

I don't think Brooke noticed, because she smiled. Or maybe she was just relieved she wasn't dead.

Frank left to take Lorien to the vet. I made sure Brooke was okay, and she left after promising to call and check on Lorien. And I went inside and cried.

I'm writing this now in the evening, waiting for Frank to get home. Lorien is okay. A bit banged up, but the vet said that's the best place for her to get hit, on the head.

I have to admit (yeah, I write that a lot. Some journalist I am, right?), I feel better after writing this down. I can still hear the noises, but the pain is less, especially knowing that Lorien is going to be just fine.

She's ready to start playing. I guess that's what a super-duper pain shot does to a dog.

Tomorrow is a new day, but today, God gave us a miracle. It may be small to some, but to me…

Callie lowered the pen slowly, not sure how to finish her thought.

Before she could think further on it, she heard a noise outside. Looking, she saw Frank approaching Lorien, and Lorien jumping excitedly.

Callie smiled. She threw a last look to her journal, closed it with finality, and headed downstairs to her little family.

"Maybe every day is a miracle."

End.

So it's not much, but I had to get this out. I cried all day yesterday, and now I feel better. Hope you guys don't mind. Besides, I thought Callie and Frank deserved some attention. And yes, Lady (my dog) is fine. I don't have kids, but she's my baby.