Lucky, I guess

RIP, sweet little warrior

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

God never closes a door without leaving me wanting to jump out a window.

Isn’t that how the saying goes?

So, about that amazing little cat I met last night. … I called those evil bastards at Animal “Care” and Control this morning, after a colleague and I looked for him on their Web site. When he wasn’t there, I should have been prepared for that call.

They could verify what he looked like, who took him there, what time he got there, and that’s about it. They euthanized him last night.

I of course was not happy. There was supposed to be a note on my file that I’d be calling. I wanted this cat. Of course, calling Animal Control to take him wasn’t the smartest thing in that case, but you know, I didn’t have any better ideas at the time.

I pleaded with the “officer” (WTF is up with all these 21-year-olds calling themselves “officer”?) to tell me what tests they ran, what they did to help him. Did they give him fluids? Anything that resembled a test or a workup?


I know he was sick. I wouldn’t have been able to keep him or care for him. Like the “officer” last night, this one noted how dirty he was. Like one of God’s creatures being dirty and in need of help automatically disqualifies them from getting it.

I’m very sad right now. Anger is bubbling up, too. Mostly at myself because I know better than to trust medical personnel of any kind.

I was driving home tonight, sobbing of course, and luckily not hitting anyone or anything. And I remembered how I was struggling to conjure up his name, like a cat whisperer or something.

It occurred to me tonight that he might never have had a name.

It also occurred to me that my photos might have been the only ones ever taken of him.

And that my mom and I were possibly the only ones to ever hug him and love him.

I thank all my friends who were praying for him last night. We were probably the only ones who ever loved and rooted for this wonderful little guy.

Mom called me this morning to say she had come up with his name.

“Lucky,” she said.

“Lucky?” I asked, thinking that cat had anything BUT luck, and this was before we knew the fuckers at the shelter eradicated his existence with nary an examination.

“He’s lucky that he found you,” she said.

I wouldn’t go that far. God knows I’m cursing my luck more than usual tonight.

But I’m lucky I got to meet him, and give him the love that he’d probably never known.

I’m the lucky one, indeed.

Goodbye, little guy. Tell Maddie that her Mommy misses her more than ever right now. And I hope to meet you both when I get to where you are.

2 Responses to Lucky, I guess

  1. Lachlan :

    I know this was hard. Really.

    But I have to wonder if it wasn’t yet another heartbreaking choice they have to make with animal control. I’m sure he was quite, quite ill. And there are many other animals who needed care. Spending a small fortune on him, for naught, would deprive the others of care.

    It sucks. It hurts. And it makes me angry, too, that we have to make those choices.

    But I agree with your mom. He WAS lucky. You gave him a small time of respite, of solace. And you ENSURED he did not die alone in a painful, horrible way. Whatever ailed him would have sealed an uglier and possibly more violent fate (predators, etc).

    I’m sorry. I know none of this makes it better. I wish it had turned out differently. But perhaps you have to look at Lucky in another way, and see the hidden lessons- was he really here for you to rescue, or was his presence another message entirely?


  2. Caterwauling :

    […] the green mile for kitties, I guess. And since I inadvertently ushered a kitty to his sad little grave by sending him there, I wouldn’t mind saving another from certain […]