It was an ordinary Friday last afternoon as I headed out to run errands. I stopped at the recycling place first before heading on to PetSmart to get Valentine’s Day gifts for Murph’s buddies, Sophie and Lady.
But on my way there I saw something in the road. The SUV in front of me swerved to miss it, and ran over it–that’s when the little cat looked up and over her shoulder as if to say, “What the heck’s going on?” (The wheels missed her, just the undercarriage went over her.)
And that’s when I realized, “Oh my God! She’s alive!”
That road is a semi-busy two-lane stretch. Since she wasn’t making any effort to get up, I knew if I didn’t stop she wouldn’t stay alive much longer. It was a decision made in less than a split second.
In a series of motions and thoughts that felt like one, I checked my rearview to see how much room was between me and the car behind, saw they had enough time to stop if I did, so I did. Then I put on my flashers, waved to the man behind me to wait, then rushed to assess the cat.
She was awake, but not alert. I couldn’t see any signs of anything being squished or broken (thank heavens!). She sort of looked like she just decided to pick that spot to have a snooze. Unless the side she was lying on harbored evidence of her injuries?
Gently, I dared to pick her up. She felt whole, no blood or bones poking out, so I rushed back to my car. She didn’t protest, squirm, or struggle. She just buried her head into my arm and loved me.
Somewhere amidst this it registered that not only was traffic behind me stopped, so was traffic in the lane next to me. Some Good Samaritan on that side had decided to stop also so I could maneuver my way on the road without danger of being hit myself. To you, Kind Stranger, I extend a heartfelt, “Thank you.”
I hurriedly, but tenderly, placed my new charge in the backseat and on to PetSmart we rushed. (Luckily I was only about two miles away as it was.) The Banfield Pet Hospital took us right in.
After assessing that other than a bad case of ear mites and a probable concussion, nothing appeared broken, dislocated, or otherwise amiss. Before treating her further (it was my dime, so I didn’t want to waste it needlessly) we tested her for Feline Leukemia and AIDS. She tested negative, so ahead with the ear mite treatment we went.
Now she’s home with me and attempts at locating her rightful owners are underway. I contacted a woman who lost a cat that looks very much like Tabby (as she’s now known) after seeing her lost posting on NashvillePetFinders.com. It wasn’t her cat, but she did say if the owner never came forth and we decided not to keep her, she just may want her.
It wasn’t how I had planned to spend my Friday afternoon. But I had to stop. The tale of Gordon Lee and the person who had rescued him was still fresh in my mind.
And when she rubs up against me as I’m feeding her, or snuggles in my lap when I check in on her, I know without a doubt I did the right thing. She’s alive and is going to be okay, whether it be with her rightful owner, in our home, or in another’s.