Warning: the following story is depressing as hell. I will make a more cheerful post about all the good things that happened this weekend later on, but for right now, I need to get this out of my system.
On our way home from Eric and Jill’s house around midnight last night, we saw a cat run into the road, and the car in front of us slam on their brakes too late to avoid hitting it. As they drove off, the terrified cat, obviously injured flailed and flopped around in the middle of the road.
Annie was much quicker to act than I was, and as I hit the emergency blinkers, she ran out and grabbed the cat, putting him in the back seat. The quick glimpse I got was of a large gray cat on the floor of the backseat. He was still freaking out a bit, so I reached back and put my hand on the back of his neck - not enough to hold him down or anything, but just a bit of contact to calm him down. It seemed to work, as he quit struggling for the rest of the ride.
While Annie was getting the cat, I had dialed 911 to ask who we should call about a cat that got hit by a car. They were very nice about it, and gave us the number of an all-night animal hospital. We called and got directions and started driving over there.
The entire rest of the ride (which felt like a half-hour, but couldn’t have been longer than 15 minutes), the cat didn’t protest at all. There was none of the wailing that I would have expected. He just sat quietly in the back, moving his head slightly every now and then and breathing raggedly.
By the time we got to the animal hospital, he was clearly wheezing, and when Annie stopped the car and the light turned on, he seemed to remember what was going on and started wailing a little.
In the quick glimpse of the light before Annie picked him up, I couldn’t see any obvious external inuries, except that he had been wheezing up blood, which was all around his mouth, and sprayed a little on the floor of the back seat. I also noticed that he wasn’t wearing a collar, so we don’t know his name, or where his home is.
Annie gave the cat to a nurse, and another nurse gave us a “Good Sam” form to fill out. By the time we had finished, the doctor came out and told us that the cat had a broken back, and would likely have to be put down, because they can’t do anything about that. He thanked us for bringing the cat in, and after we finished filling out the form, we left.
The only real blessing in this is that the poor cat was clearly in shock, and the doctor told us he had no feeling at all on the back half of his body. So as horrible a situation as it was, the cat probably didn’t suffer much, and at least got to die in a warm room instead of the middle of the road.
My mom would say that fate brought us to that scene so that we could help that cat, and I’m glad we did what we could for him, but I still get ill thinking about it, and the back of my mind keeps playing that horrific image of the cat flailing around in the road while Annie runs towards it over and over again. I had to watch TV for an hour after we got home before I was anywhere near being able to go to bed and not just lie there watching the other car drive away and the reflected lights in the cat’s eyes endlessly.
I could never be a doctor or anything. This kind of thing just haunts me. I had enough trouble dealing with the bodies of the mice that our traps caught, and I hated those mice.
Ugh. I don’t know where this post is going anymore. I thought I needed to write this down to get it out of my system, but that didn’t work as well as I thought it would.
Anyways, like I said, that was the only mar on an otherwise great weekend, and I’ll be making a much happier post later on - but it just didn’t feel right to celebrate things without at least mentioning this poor cat.
I'm a 30-year-old 
I know exactly what you mean. I had my learner’s permit for about four months when I was out one afternoon driving with my dad. As I rounded a corner, a big orange cat sudenly jumped out in front of the car. I imagine it was chasing a bird or a bug or something and never saw the car coming. I couldn’t stop and hit it with a huge thud. to make it worse, it’s body hit aginst the front tires, all along the underside of the car then again under the back tires. Just remembering it now is enough to make me feel sick.
Needless to say when we stopped, the poor creature was dead and there was nothing to do. I cried the whole way home and it was some time before I drove again.
I’m sorry you had to go through that.
June 14th, 2004 at 2:14 pm
It was snowy, and my friend Terrell was driving his parents’ van. Two dogs ran out in the road in front of us, and while one made it across the street, the other was inline with the front tire. We hit it as Terrell was skidding to a halt. We waited a few seconds to see if the dog was going to slink out from under the van. It didn’t. We couldn’t see the dog anywhere. Terrell backed up a few feet, and we heard and felt something come loose from the wheel well. We felt absolutely miserable, because we were never able to find the dog (it must have run off once it was free from the van).
I always hope that it was just bruised, but okay. But I’m never able to convince myself fully.
Sorry, my point is that I know how you feel. You’re not alone.
June 14th, 2004 at 2:32 pm
You guys are awesome for taking care of that cat, and don’t forget it! I am sorry that you went through it, but you did good. On behalf of all the little critters… I thank you.
June 14th, 2004 at 11:55 pm