Dead Pet Diaries: Smudge

i am guilty of catslaughter.

i didn't see the black cat coming. i was driving home from work and it just darted out in front of me. i heard the tell-tale "ba-bump" under my van, stopped, got out, and saw the poor thing dead as can be on the pavement, one green eye bulging out of its skull. i was very sad. somebody loved this animal.

i did not know what to do... should i knock on doors, looking for the owner and fess up? i thought i should. but i didn't. the cat's already dead, i thought, what would be the point? i went home for lunch, and an hour later when i left to return to work, the cat was gone. indeed, somebody loved him.

it wasn't until my daughter came home from school that it hit me. her friend three houses down has cats. shit. i asked her, "so, does savannah have cats?" and she said, "yes, two. chocolate and smudge." and i said, "oh." and she said, "well, actually, smudge died. he got hitted by a car." smudge was, indeed, a smudge.

it turns out that i knew the victim. not only did SOMEBODY love him, my daughter's best friend and her family loved him. i found this funny, this murderous secret, partly because the friend is bossy (see roger), but it really isn't very funny. i never told them. i never apologized. when savannah's sister introduced me to her new kitty, the one she got because "her kitty got killed," i smiled and said, "he's so cute."

this story has been so funny to me. but not so much right now; why wasn't i sadder? why did i not care for this girl and her pet? she must have been very sad. whoever found smudge in the street must have felt like she was punched in the gut. but i made jokes and hid.

perhaps it's not too late to go to hallmark and get a card for "loss of pet."