Today we were driving home from college and on Waller Road we saw people driving around something in the road opposite ours. I thought it was a piece of paper because part of it was flopping, like waving in the wind.
As we got closer I saw it was a cat who had been hit by a car. I pulled over, grabbed a towel and ran out into the street and scooped her up.
She was broken.
She lay in my arm, not moving, but I could feel her heart. I walked to the closest house to find the front door open and plenty of cars in the driveway, but no one answered my call. Then walked to the little baptist church next door to ask if they had seen the cat before and knew who it belonged to.
The sweet little girl tightened up in my arms for a second or two and then was gone.The pastor didn’t know who she belonged to, so I tried one more house across the street. No one home. As I was looking for an owner, Jesse was receiving a phone call from a friend of ours whose father is dying, she needed to get out of the house for a while, so we told her we would pick her up on the way to the humane society.
We dropped Anna Bella, who was very interested in the smell coming from under the towel in my arms, off at home, picked up Sarah and with windows down, son drove us nervously to the shelter. I couldn’t look at her after she had passed. She was so sweet and tiny [only 2 years old] and very clean, couldn’t have been a stray.
We arrived at the shelter and took her in, the counter guy saw us wearing our volunteer badges and asked us where we found her. Then he proceeded to open the towel and look her over. He then told us how old she was, by looking at her teeth.
He then took her to the room in the back.
Volunteers aren’t allowed in the room in the back. Fine by me. A young uniformed guy was dropping off his two pitbull/rottweiler mixes behind us. Probably deploying and can’t find a home for them. Sweet dogs. So sad.
We gave Sarah a tour for the shelter and came home. My shirt smelled of cat, blood and death.
Feeling a bit melancoly and sad. Life really is precious and fleeting. All life is precious. God created all life. We should respect all life.
I wonder if she had a home, a family, kids who loved her. Kids who played with her, people who miss her right now.
I wonder what my death will be like.
Sarahs dad is dying like my dad did. At home, in a hospital bed, with hospice.
Labored breathing, no food or water intake for days, not opening eyes. I know how hard it was for me at 20. How hard it must be for Sarah, who is 16, and who is the apple of her daddy’s eye.
If your heart so desires, pray for Sarah and her mother and half-sister. They all are Christians but are all struggling in different, difficult ways.
Love, The Home Engineer