The death of the puppy with no legs

So there I was on the front porch, about to walk Abby to the bus, when I noticed it. In the grass, on a leaf (yeah, we call the weeds 'grass.') It was maybe and inch and a half long, and pure white. The most amazing fuzzy wuzzy white there was, if ever a fuzzy white there was. It was a caterpillar, but it looked mostly like a fuzzy puppy without legs. My inner tree-hugger surged forth as I excitedly said 'Abby! Come look at what.......' and that's when it happened. The dog, in her rush to walk Abby out the bus, went flying by us to get to the driveway first, and all 115 pounds of her fuzzy white body stepped directly on her little incecticile mini-me. I gasp in horror. Abby looks down, eyebrows furrowed. Looks back at me and says, "What? It's a dead caterpillar."
She never even got to see how fuzzy it was. Cuz it wuzn't anymore. It wuz squished and jelly-like. And apparently she wuz confused as to why I would want to show her a dead caterpillar.
Sigh. We walked to the bus, and only I had the memory of the fuzzy wuzzy white puppy without legs.