Thursday, April 21, 2011

Ceiling Cat

Oh my lovies, such a sad thing.

Last night our family from Kyogle came for dinner, after setting up their stall at the National Folk Festival down the road. These are the same relatives we visit when we attend the Woodford Folk Festival; they have a market stall selling lovely Asian clothes that they've designed themselves.

We (them and us, plus friends byrd & K) had a lovely dinner: vego curries followed by a caramelised fig, orange & walnut bread & butter pudding, and then sat around talking in a jolly manner for a while longer.

Finally, it was bedtime for bo-bos, so out the front door we all stood, lingering, when a small white cat came through the dark garden and said hello. It was all white with a single black spot on its head, young and whippy, with a lovely long tail that we all remarked upon admiringly. It said hello vocally, staying for a pat or three, and disappeared back into the night. Best Beloved said 'can we keep it?', as it didn't have a tag and had a lean and hungry look about it, but I didn't answer for some reason.

E & S started their car, byrd walked off into the night, and suddenly there was a bang noise. byrd yelled back at me that the white cat had been hit by a car.

We live on a service road of a larger road, with a large bit of tree-filled park between the two. As I walked across the park towards byrd (and E&S switched off their engine), I could see a white wriggling shape on the main road. byrd got onto the road and kept the cars from hitting it again, and the car that had hit it had stopped up the way, but by the time the young -- and shocked -- occupants had got to us and it, the cat was dead.

It was unmarked: no blood, no signs of struggle. It had made a couple of quick heaves to breathe and then stopped still. The poor little thing.

I felt sorry for the driver and his mates -- they hadn't been speeding, just driving along when the cat bolted across the road in front of them with no warning.

As I said, no tag, no indication of anything. The driver of the car picked it up and put is under a tree in the park. I suspect that it was a stray, but I am going to ring the RSPCA today and report its death in case anyone rings to report it missing.

E&S were as shocked as I, maybe more so since they had been the first to pat it and have a chat. We all went our ways, but not as merrily as we'd intended.

I went inside and hugged my cats for a while. We never let them out at night for many reasons, but visibility is one of them. If a clear white cat can be hit so easily, what chance do jet black ones have?

Poor little thing. Thank you for our brief encounter.


Sara Bowen said...

Poor little thing... my cat met the same end, only our elderly landlady found her dead, put her in a plastic bag and attached the bag to our front door so we'd find her when we got home. :( Poor you finding it...

Ulrike said...

That is such a sad story.

ronnie said...



even for those of us who have intimate experiences of birth and death - seeing life leaving is always difficult (and life arriving always miraculous...)

The Elephant's Child said...

Tears. Such a sad ending to an evening. And our black moggies are inside like yours for a multiplicity of reasons but my soft heart hurts.

tigtog said...

Oh, so sad for you. Scritch those furry heads of your black cats for me. Poor little white mite.

Mindy said...

At least the poor mite's last memory would have been of lovely people paying lots of attention and giving affection.

Cat Drawings said...

Poor little creature, and poor people driving the car.

All awful.

Maybe you should go and get a little white creature from the RSPCA.

fifi said...

OH! Frightful!

I have a broken louvre that needs fixing.
In the meantime my silky silver grey slips though it and I am feeling no end of anxious...

Carol said...

Very sad. I think I'll go out and hug Black Luther and tell him, again, why he shouldn't cross the road.

naomi said...

Oh how sad. Poor E & S, and you three.

Anonymous said...

Oh your post just made me cry. It reminded me of when I was 7 or so and had almost the exact same thing happen - except I was at a relatives place and a ginger kitteh all young and spritey and happy came up to me and my cousins for some free love and we played and patted and he was run over right in front of us. Literally feet away.

Why oh why do people leave their cats out? It's heartbreaking and there is nothing to be done other than to be sad.