When I was little, my nana used to say, “animals are just people in little fur coats.”
Back then, that phrase made so much sense to me. It still does to this very day.
So much so, that I used to say it all the time at school. Which, unsurprisingly, was one of the reasons why I was bullied.
I saw cats, dogs, birds, even little fish, as intelligent voiceless people, not as stupid animals as others so often viewed them. It’s why I always try to take care of them. Even if the deed is as simple as filling up the bird feeders. If I can make their lives better, I’ll try whatever I can.
This brings me to the real reason why I’m writing this blog post.
This past weekend, as I was driving home to my parents home in Maine, I saw a little kitten on the side of the highway.
He was a beautiful little boy – not much older than 6 months. It was the pure white around his neck and hind legs that first caught my attention, but as I drove closer, I could see the striking tabby markings on his back and face. I could immediately tell he was scared – of course, I’d be terrified too if I were sitting in the middle of the grassy median in the middle of I295. It is no place for a kitten at all.
It was obvious he was dumped there.
Not being able to stop and pull over safely, I raced for the Gardiner exit, jumped on the I295 Southbound, and quickly made my way back up the Northbound, this time in the passing lane so I could pull over closer and not risk crossing the highway.
But I was too late.
From what I surmise, someone else saw him and got to him before I did.
Instead of stopping to grab him and take him to safety, this asshole (for lack of a more dignified term) decided it was best to just run the little kitten over.
When I got to the baby, his entire head was flatter than a pancake.
It was an instant death by Mercy’s hands.
Surprisingly, I didn’t cry when I got to the tiny body. Nor did I cry when I picked him up, gingerly placed him in a bag, and drove him to my parents house.
I did, however, cry when I called my dad and asked him to start digging a small hole in our pet cemetery.
When I arrived home, It was all I could do not to drop to my knees and sob my heart out. Not even questioning, my dad took the bag with the kitten’s body, placed him in a smaller, and better, box, and buried him next to our Mister.
Personally, I want to find the people who dumped him in such a dangerous place, as well as the person who ran him over, and show them just how painful their actions were. I want to curse their lives and make every action they take to be as painful and miserable as can be. Not only did they hurt a poor defenseless animal, they also took away countless memories of a little boy living in bliss, surrounded by family who love him dearly.
But for now, I will take solace in the fact I brought this baby boy to a home, where even in spirit, he will be loved and taken care of. His soul is surrounded by the other cats and dog we have had in our past. And I know at least some of them are with him, keeping an eye on him and letting him know how much he is loved.
I pray I am able to get to the next little boy or girl before another jack-ass tries to partake in another act of cruelty.
L.J. LaBree 