For the past three years, a little tuxedo kitty has been visiting my front yard, attracted by the many bird feeders we have hanging there. I never encouraged her or tried to befriend her because my three would get upset when they could see her through the windows. But I'd watch for her and smile when I saw her, and I'd speak to her when I was outside. (I think she was a girl. She was on the small side and had fairly delicate features.) I don't know where she lived, but she looked well-fed and her fur was smooth and un-matted.
A few times last month, I saw her pass by and something didn't seem right. She was walking okay, but it was more like pacing. She'd pace down the sidewalk...and then a few minutes later, she'd pace back by the house. She didn't stop to watch the birds. She didn't look right or left. She just plodded by. "Odd," I thought, but I went on with my life.
A couple of weeks ago, I was coming home from my morning walk. I glanced down just as I came even with my next-door-neighbor's house, and there she was, lying in the street next to the curb. She was under the neighbor's car, but I don't believe she was hit. I think she had been sick for weeks, and she lay down and died. In the below-freezing cold. Alone. Her eyes were open, but she was gone. Her beautiful tuxedo coat was unmarked. But she was gone. I made my husband stay with her and ran to the house for a large towel. I hadn't been there for her when she was sick, but I couldn't abandon her now. We wrapped her gently in a towel and brought her into the garage. We found a place for her in the back yard later in the day.
I don't know where she lived--and don't want to know because I'd probably say something about letting a sick cat out to wander the neighborhood in frigid temps--but she became mine when she died. I feel so terrible that I didn't act when I thought something looked off with her. I'll never forgive myself. Little tuxedo kitty. I am so sorry.
A few times last month, I saw her pass by and something didn't seem right. She was walking okay, but it was more like pacing. She'd pace down the sidewalk...and then a few minutes later, she'd pace back by the house. She didn't stop to watch the birds. She didn't look right or left. She just plodded by. "Odd," I thought, but I went on with my life.
A couple of weeks ago, I was coming home from my morning walk. I glanced down just as I came even with my next-door-neighbor's house, and there she was, lying in the street next to the curb. She was under the neighbor's car, but I don't believe she was hit. I think she had been sick for weeks, and she lay down and died. In the below-freezing cold. Alone. Her eyes were open, but she was gone. Her beautiful tuxedo coat was unmarked. But she was gone. I made my husband stay with her and ran to the house for a large towel. I hadn't been there for her when she was sick, but I couldn't abandon her now. We wrapped her gently in a towel and brought her into the garage. We found a place for her in the back yard later in the day.
I don't know where she lived--and don't want to know because I'd probably say something about letting a sick cat out to wander the neighborhood in frigid temps--but she became mine when she died. I feel so terrible that I didn't act when I thought something looked off with her. I'll never forgive myself. Little tuxedo kitty. I am so sorry.
