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.