Something happened a few weeks ago that I can’t forget about. It was just about when the seasons were turning, and the weather went from cool to cold. I’d been walking around outside enjoying the breeze, when a large tabby cat appeared from under a car and mewled at me. Its grey and matted fur told me that it was a stray. 

I’ll be honest– I’m not the best with animals. The thing looked damp somehow, slowly plodding towards me while making that gosh darn meowing sound. 

I don’t do well with dogs, especially large ones. They stare at you, their tongue lolling out their mouth, drool pooling on the floor, and suddenly, if you show even a single ounce of fear, they’ll pounce at you, and drag you screaming to the ground. That was a true story, if you couldn’t tell. 

Cats are better. But I’m allergic to some of them, and the rest of them bite and scratch and…who knows, this one might have rabies or something. So I stood in the center of this road, in a face off with this fearsome tabby cat. Those beady little eyes never stopped their watchful gaze as it walked up. It slowed as it got nearer, and I felt the danger increase. 

Ah.

It continued to mewl, quietly, persistently, and I stared at it. Terrified. Absolutely terrified that I would start to feel bad for it. Scared that I would start to care.

So I stuck both hands in my pockets and walked off at top speed, darting past its (probably freezing) body, ignoring its (pleading, imploring, desperate) cries, and when I next turned around, I saw it slink under a car, disappearing into the shadows. 

I suppose this is a bit of a confession. There was really nothing I would’ve done differently. I’ll think to myself that since it’s a stray, it knows how to get by in this world, that it doesn’t need outside help, that it isn’t my job. Maybe another person would’ve taken it in on the spot. Maybe another person did! Maybe right after it slinked behind that car, it found a new, warm home in the house right next door.

Maybe it’s lying somewhere, fur as matted as ever, lifeless in some ditch, with the morning frost glistening in its forgotten fur. 

Next time.