"Besides being complicated, reality, in my experience, is usually odd. It is not neat, not obvious, not what you expect." — C.S. Lewis
Yesterday morning I was drivng to the feeding stations when I saw something in the road just in front of the park. There was a car ahead of me. I strained to see around the car. But the car steered around whatever it was, leaving me an open view. It was a cat.
I pulled over to take the cat out of the road and held my breath until I was close enough to see who it was. It was Pookie. She was dead. She must have been hit hours before.
I moved her out of the road and looked around in the open field for her kittens. That's where she was headed when she was hit. She had her litter a couple of weeks ago. I couldn't find them. Pookie was coming up on 1 year old. I have been feeding her since she was a kitten.
I have felt so dejected since I found her, and, in addition, it is so very strange to me. I had just a few days ago chosen her picture to use in my bio on a website. Why of all the cats did I choose hers? I think I felt like she was the invisible cat.
Pookie was not demanding, yet I wouldn't call her timid. She was quiet, thoughtful. She liked to play when I would inititate it, but she wasn't playing with me, she was just playing. I guess I chose her because I didn't want her to be invisible anymore. I wanted to make sure I held her in regard. And, yet, just the day before, she came late to the feeding, when I was about to head up top. I gave her some milk, and some of the expensive crunchies I save for treats after meals, but I didn't open another can.
I wish I had opened another can, especially because she was nursing kittens. I didn't know it would be the last time I saw her alive. Sometimes when I lose a cat, I break down immediately. This time it has come over me hour by hour, the sadness and pain worsening and worsening.
Godspeed, Pookie. I love you. Thank you.
Reality, in fact, is usually something you could not have guessed.
— C.S. Lewis
