Mouse

This is one of those terrible entries I'd hope I'd never have to write.

I killed one of my kitties when I pulled into the drive this evening.

There are a number of outside kitties that I've added to my extended cat family. Whenever I'd drive in, they would dart out of the bushes and across the drive. As though they were so glad to see me. This was such a simple thing, but it brought me a tiny sense of joy.

One of these was a small black and white who loved to prance around with his tail standing straight up. He looked like a kittie from some old cartoon. One who would always be chasing a mouse. So what more logical name than Mouse.

But he was also the most rambunctious. He would bounce around the drive. And any time I opened the door, he was the first to scurry in looking for food - canned or dry - it made no difference. He would gobble it down and make a grunting sound. As though to say, "This is MY food! Go away!"

This evening, when I got out of the car, I glanced back and saw him lying on the pavement. And at that second, I knew he was dead.

I was overcome with grief. I wanted a miracle. Some form of resurrection. Just for a second to see him alive again.

There are few things that mean something to me. And Mouse was one of them. If paradise there be, then we will meet again.

PAX!