A week ago my cousin S.'s son T., who is 14, found a kitten in the middle of a road by my aunt and uncle's house. Its mother was a few blocks up the street, and it was just sitting there mewling. My cousin decided to adopt it and we've been nurturing it ever since. I think there's something wrong with it, because it can't seem to locate anything except by smell, but it does enjoy the simple pleasure of being petted and it's very friendly once it finds you.

Then, this morning on the way to work, a cat leapt out of nowhere in front of the car ahead of me, which was stopped. I don't know if someone hit it or if they threw it out the window (this is Pasco County... such things happen) or what, but it crossed lanes and started jumping around in a frenzy. I could see something coming out of its head. It was right in front of an eighteen wheeler, the driver of which just sat there, I imagine wondering what to do. I didn't think it'd be safe to get out of the car and move the cat- and what would that accomplish, anyway? Prolong its misery? So I kept driving. A few minutes later the big rig pulled up next to me. I guess he'd decided he couldn't wait any more for the cat to get out of his way. Maybe it did.

I thought about the thing squashed under the truck's wheels and had a sudden urge to either genuflect or vomit. I don't think I'd ever seen a creature fight death before.

My guilt at having done nothing simply in order to avoid having to deal with the cat's suffering... well, it's a good thing I haven't eaten in eighteen hours, or I'd be throwing up.