Every time I would go outside to look for him to bring him in for the night, I would always worry that he had been hit by a car. I would look up and down the street just in case, worrying that I might actually see him in the middle of the road.
Well, tonight I wasn't looking for him.
I had just let him back out, because I knew he would go crazy if I tried to keep him inside.
He was always a good kitty, but inside, he just wasn't an inside cat. He was feral in his core.
He liked to be out. He begged to be out early in the morning, came in for the afternoon to sleep in some corner, then went right back out for the rest of the night. Well, until his dinner time. Then I'd go outside, call him, and hope he came in.
Every night practically he wanted to stay out later an later, until finally we settled in on him coming in for the night at 10.
He was a good kitty. He'd come in almost every night and often sleep next to me, or on my windowsill behind my head.
When he was attacked by something when he was almost still a kitten, he slept in the crook of my arm, and didn't go outside for days.
I got used to it. When he came in early and wanted to be fed wet food, I just let him back out. If I had just fed him and seen if he'd go crazy, he'd probably be alive still.
But I didn't. I was inside, on my computer, when I got the knock on the door, telling me that my cat was hit by a car. I went running around looking for my flashlight because it was dark.
When I got down there, there was a crowd of people and a police officer.
It was so horrible. There was blood on the road. His face was all bloody.
Some random guy lent me his plastic tub and a blanket. I put him in it and took him to the vet.
It was horrible. It was just waiting for a long ass time.
They gave him oxygen. They said he had a broken arm and some of his skin was torn from his lip, but they weren't sure if he had any other injuries. They were going to have to do a full body x-ray.
Then it was more waiting.
And then he went into arrest.
And then there was more waiting.
Asking what we wanted him in.
A fucking "body bag". I asked what it was made of. "To be honest, it sort of looks like a trash bag."
Fucking hell man.
I had him put in a cardboard coffin and took him home and buried him in the back yard.
Right next to my other cat that died years ago.
I've lost count of how many cats I've buried.
FUCK MAN!
I love you Kai. You will be missed. I'll always miss you and your soft fur. You were the best of kitties.
