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Old July 13th 03, 03:00 PM
Mr. Nangla
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I'm so sorry to hear about this, and as I was reading I was hoping I would
never experience that, it's one of the reasons why I was reluctant to get
any pets, because I wouldn't want to see them die. But you know what? I got
my kittie and we're happy.

I know this is obvious, but death is a part of life, at least you got some
time to spend with the cat, you were happy and so was the cat. I hope you
will still care for other cats and my heart truly goes out to you. You doing
a good thing, please don't stop

Sonny

"John Kimmel" wrote in message
...
I came home from my walk the other night to find a car parked in front
of my driveway. There was a woman standing in front of it looking at
something on the road. It was a dead cat. The woman had obviously
seen it in the road and stopped, not knowing what to do.

She asked me.

I said, "I know that cat". I picked it up and started walking towards
my house.

She said "Thank you", seemed concerned that I might think she had
killed "my" cat, I don't remember what else she said.

I couldn't reassure her, because I had temporarily lost my voice, so I
just walked to the house, dropped the carcass on the front porch,
opened the garage, took out a shovel.

I originally thought that it was the feral that I'd captured and
neutered last summer, which is why I got all choked up. I'd been
working on him all year and gotten to the point where I could actually
touch him enough to run a brush over him occasionally, and get flea
poison on him. He was a long haired Siamese with a tabby face, very
light body and dark brown tail. He still is, as a matter of fact, the
long haired Siamese with the brown tail that got hit by a car in front
of my house was a different cat. When I examined the carcass under
the porch light, I saw (to my moderated relief), that the dead cat had
intact ears. When the FCCO neuters feral cats, they clip the tip off
one of the ears so it can be easily identified. The dead cat was one
who'd just started coming around for food, she had a rounder, softer
face, more placid eyes, but she'd had a hard death. I don't know if
her face had been battered, or if it was distorted in an expression of
horror. There was blood from one side of the street to the other when
I checked the next morning. She'd been hit on the opposite side and
managed to get to my side under her own power before she died. I
can't stop thinking about it.

I dug a hole in the front garden where I had some light. Arranged the
cat in the bottom in a napping position then covered her up. It was
very hot, I had sweat and tears dripping down my face, and a big ball
of snot hanging from my nose which I finally just wiped on a
convenient sleeve.

Hosed down the front porch. Went to bed.
John Kimmel


Laughter, tears, curtain.