I saw a dead cat in the gutter yesterday afternoon. She got hit, hard, while almost making it across the busiest street in the village. Small and gray, her face was completely shmushed. I didn't mean to look because this sort of thing upsets me so. But I thought she might have been a toy or a stuffed animal and if so, I would have pulled her out of the gutter and onto the grass in case her rightful owner came back looking for her. Instead I recoiled in horror and console myself with the thought that she couldn't have suffered.
I am wrapping up The Cat Who Read Backwards, the first in the LJB series of books about Qwill and Koko (and later addition, Yum-Yum). So far this story features two murders, bloody stabbings, in fact. Yet I'm captivated by how non-cat-person Qwill becomes enamored of Koko, just as I'm more upset by the real-life sight of the dead cat than I am the gory portrayals of the fictional murder victims.
Is it any wonder I foresee the next stage of my life as Crazy Old Cat Lady?
Ewww, even though I am not a cat lover, I would be very disturbed by the cat incident.
ReplyDeleteWhen I see a dead animal, I think about the family and what they must be going through looking for their animal. B/c of fisher cats and coyotes, never mind just the road, our cats are all indoor for this reason.
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