Well... To the cat that ran across the road.
I apologise for what I have done. I'm really sincerely sorry I really am. I've been told I say that word way too much, other people say that I never actually say it when it's appropriate. But I hope that my words of apology can be enough for your peace.
To the cat that ran across the road.
Driving home from Burwood after a night full of laughter with food and PC games I was expecting to have more laughs from trying to help my mate find his key that he lost in his car. Instead, life between me and you had to clash for the first and last time ever. For your spirited dash across the road I commend you on your bravery, I just wish I had sped up as opposed to slow down, if I had done that just maybe it would not have gone the way it did.
Seeing you dash just into my peripheral vision, I brake, I braked hard. Not too sure if the ABS kick in or not but that soft *thud* that happened after I stopped braking and instead rolled to a stop on the side of the road. I knew what it was but I refuse to admit it, hoping it to be just a pot hole of some strange sort.
To the cat that ran across the road.
When I looked back in the side mirror I see you, you're not motionless but you're behaving in a very strange erratic way. Shocked and stunned, I did not know what to do. The evoX pulls up right behind you, his headlights illuminating you erratic movements. I then realise that your strange movements is still your desperate attempt to run from the danger. Flailing with your whole body flopping back and forth using all the available motor functions you still have, limp yet strong. I just wish you had stopped resisting.
I sit for a few short moments before I notice the evoX rolled around you and pull over in front of me. I finally get out of my car, walking ever so slowly towards you. I see you still flailing around, I just wish you had stop resisting and realise that your erratic movements flopping back and forth was just causing more trauma to your damaged organs and limbs.
As I edged even closer to you, you're still moving but this time only your hind legs are. Very ecstatically in a way I couldn't recognise until now. You were trying to still run away from me, seeing your chest heave up and down, your big light blue eyes wide open, blood pooling up behind your head and in your ears. I gasp, you're terrified of me.
To the cat that ran across the road.
Seeing your beautiful coat of white with patches of grey fur, your underside slowly getting stained by your own blood, I realised you are someone's beloved pet. I am so so sorry. I'm sorry that you can never return to them ever again. You will never be pampered again nor will you feel the warmth of of another body again. I'm so terribly sorry.
Very quickly your hind legs stop moving, your still heaving and your eyes are still wide open. Uncertain of whether your eyes showed to me your acceptance of death or whether you still could not believe this had happened. I couldn't believe this had happened to me but I had come to the realisation that you were going to pass.
To the cat that ran across the road
This whole time as I describe this series of events I had just wanted to wrap you up in the towel I had in the boot of my car and take you to the nearest 24 hour emergency vet. But my body wouldn't move for I knew I wouldn't know what I would be doing, mortified at the idea of I could possibly hurt you even further in the process. Also I knew that I wouldn't know where to go or where to start looking. I apologise I wish I had knew better.
After a few have a dozen cars pass us, eventually what I though to be another taxi turn out to be a cop car. His flashing red and blue lights offered me a hint of hope, for what? I didn't know, but they proved to be useless.
After a call to the 24 hour vet clinic I looked up on my phone, I was told to take you to them whether you had passed of not. I was mortified of the idea of picking you up, I didn't want any more of your organs to possibly rupture, I didn't want your spine to be damaged even more.
Thankfully these passer-bys lived across the road. I asked them for a box to put you in. I placed the towel on top of you and rested my hand on top. You were still warm, possibly from the towel itself or the humid 20 something degree night, what ever it was, I was glad you were still warm. Picking you up as gently as I could, just as I would if I was holding a baby for the first time. I notice your head is limp but I place your soft possibly cuddly body in that box and into the car.
Grateful for the box provided to me, for it would allow you not to move around as I drive.
I take you to the vet, pressing the buzzer and immediately it was answered by another buzzer opening the door for me. I step into the foyer confused on where to go, I see the nurse come up to me. Carefully she peeps into the box and takes it off me rushed down the corridor at a fast walking pace. I see you enter a door with a sign saying "Staff Only".
I peer in through the window, I can't see you but I see them. She tears open the side wall of the box, Watching them with my eyes was strange it was them who confirm your condition to me. I see her mouth the words "It's dead". After that, something dropped inside me, even though I knew of your impending passing for it to be confirmed still shocked me.
I apologise to the owners for the loss, I don't expect to be forgiven but I do hope they understand how I feel.
Despite how horrifying this experience has been, I don't wish it had never had happened because wishing is useless. If anything I'm glad that now I know what to do if this does happen again. For next time I don't want a life to be extinguished because of me.
