Sadness

Today I heard a cat get run over, I saw it's last moments played out before me and I sobbed like it was my very own kitty. I could barely face it.

I was sitting in the car, waiting for JG and CG. I looked down the path and saw a cat shoot up towards my parked car and then bump! as the car coming down the road (not speeding) hit it. I looked out my driver window and saw the cat in it's last throes.

I honestly did not know what to do, I froze with my hands to my face. Any other person would have been out the car in a flash, trying to administer first aid. Me, I just turned into those girls I don't like, all the shrieking 'oh no no no oh no oh no'. I clambered over the gears and into the passenger side and saw my dad coming up the path. I reverted to about 5 years of age 'Daddy, daddy, the cat the cat'. While sobbing. Still, a bit of the mother resided in me as I sent CG away back down the path. The woman who was in the other car was just as frantic as I - and we clung to each other like it was a beloved pet of ours.

The cat died. My dad dealt with it all.

And now some hours later, I'm still left with this sick feeling. The cat was feral so it won't be missed, which is sad in itself. That no one will cry for it (bar myself and the other lady).

But why was I so useless? I'm the mother of a teenager, I've dealt with many an accident involving CG, blood, stitches and visits to A&E and I've coped admirably. But when it comes to animals, I turn into an incapable mess. I hark back to when Fluffy the rabbit met his Maker. I was inconsolable for days. Winnie the parakeet. I held him in my hands until he died and was hysterical on the phone to the vet, so much so that I thought I'd end up getting a shot. Tyson the Russian hamster (he bit everyone hence the name) - I ran to my parents with cage in one hand, a three month old CG in the other, screaming that Tyson had popped his clogs.
It's really no surprise that people are amazed CG has made it to 13. But clearly, it's just animals that I fall apart at the seams over. When Mom had her stroke, I went into a very capable mode. When Dad's knee went disgusting, I turned into Florence Nightingale. And when CG swallowed his marble and choked on it, I did everything it tells you to in the first aid courses.

Anyway, poor kitty who ran out of lives today. No collar, no name, but remembered in my heart.
R.I.P