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DYING CATS and ANGELS
by MARY DE LA PENA [aka M.J.
HATCH]
As
a mystery writer and criminal defense attorney I deal with death on an almost
weekly, if not daily basis. However death is always in the abstract, not real,
only something on paper. Today, I witnessed death up close and personal.
I
was on my way to court in the city of Riverside, California when I saw
something in the roadway that did not make sense. It was moving, and was not a
color that I associated with a blowing plastic bag or paper. As I slowed down I
realized it was a cat that had more likely than not been hit by a car, but was
not yet deceased.
Horrified,
I drove for another block before realizing I could not let that poor animal
remain on that busy street and be hit again, or worse yet, cause an accident as
other drivers hopefully swerved to avoid it much as I had. I did a quick U-turn
and drove back to the scene. Another quick U-turn and I pulled my car to the
side of the road where the cat struggled. With no cars coming I immediately
jumped from my car and ran to the cat, picked it up and took it to the grass on
the parkway by the side of the road.
As
soon as I picked up the cat I knew it was probably a feral cat and was
definitely in its death throws. The cat’s fur was dirty and his body was thin, with
the trauma to its head most likely mortal. One of his eyes was dislodged from
its socket, and his skull was partially crushed. But yet, he struggled to
survive, his instinct was to run, but the signals to his legs only strong
enough to cause them to stretch and contract. It broke my heart, yet I could
not leave him alone to die.
I
whispered quietly to the cat, and stroked his fur, imagining that I was the
first human hand that had given him this sign of affection and security. To my
amazement he began to purr, his last breaths coming with his brave attempt to
prove he was still strong. Seeing that his death was near I found myself
crying, and then praying that God would take this blessed animal and bring him
into His loving arms. With the prayer sent to Heaven, the cat’s breath came
slower, the contractions in his legs stopping, with one last breath expelled as
a purr, he transitioned to God.
Seeing
his blood on my hands, and knowing that the cat was now beyond pain or hunger
or fear, I felt my tears stream down my face, my strong impersonal persona of
criminal defense attorney crumbling. Yet, even with my tears I heard the voice
without a voice tell me that I had acted in his stead this morning. I was this
animal’s angel in death to help him transition with at least one loving hand on
him as he passed.
We
never know when we will be called to be that
angel. Just know that every living thing needs love and a loving hand when
it passes. Just remember it is truly blessed when you are the one called upon
and know you have the strength.
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