Requiem For A Cat

© Jef Thompson / Shutterstock.com

Death. It comes to us all. It came to this little tabby cat some time last night, on the road. Its last moments were bathed in the brightness of headlights from a car, a truck, or a motorbike. One hit, one last desperate too-late leap for safety, ending in collapse and the struggle to take more than one last breath. I hope its last moments were seconds, not minutes, and definitely not hours. I hope its leaving this world was relatively painless and bathed in a different type of light.

I feel an unutterable sadness staring at this wee creature lying lifeless and abandoned in the gutter. Those eyes will never see the world again. That mouth will never savour food filling its belly nor feel the silky cool of water passing over its tongue. That nose will never smell the delicious odour of life, full of promise and excitement. Those ears will never hear mice in the walls, or lizards in the grass, or the call of its name from the humans who love it. There will be no more pats and cuddles. No more purrs of pleasure and comfort. It is gone from the world of the living into the world of shades. And I weep for those who have lost their companion, the small furry body that brought them so much love and joy.

People pass by, turning their nose up in disgust at the dead body of a cat, never even considering the life that has gone. The loss is enormous. In a single tragic moment, all that defined this one existence has been carried away on the wings of death.

Inspired by a prompt from Cynthia Morris in her quarterly Free Write Fling.