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HAPPY BIRFDAY [profile] ladnews!!



Going through something hellish right now...

Last night, as I was turning to back into the driveway, I felt a thud near the front tire. I was wondering what the hell it was, wondering if there was a problem with the front brakes, or if I'd run over a stick or something, but the road was clear when I started my turn. As I backed in the driveway, I saw a cat body writhing in the street in front of me. By the time I stopped the car and got out, the writhing had stopped. I went in the house and got Mom, and when we got out there, there was another car coming down the street. We waved him around, but in the headlights, Mom could tell the cat was still breathing, and then the cat took its last breath and...was no more. Crossed the bridge, if it hadn't done so earlier, and everything else was just nerves, given that it was a head injury that killed him.

I haven't really slept, well or otherwise, since this happened. Mom dragged the body to the edge of the yard, just so he wouldn't get hit repeatedly or anything, and while I was getting the windshield replaced today, she made some calls. We were hoping animal control would come out and take care of the body, maybe make a note of the description in case he belonged to anyone and someone came looking for him. Turns out, animal control doesn't deal with anything dead, nor do they collect information like that. They referred Mom to DelDOT, who said that if the body is on the property, there's a fee for removal, but if it's in the road, removal is free, and so, maybe drag the body back into the road.

Fuck it. I dug a hole in the back yard, got one of the smaller boxes we have for moving, lined it with an old towel which doubled as a burial shroud. He (and I'm assuming it was a "he") was stiff with rigor mortis, but I did the best I could to make him fit in the box with any kind of dignity. Wrapped him in the towel, closed the box, said a few words over it, and apologized profusely as I buried the box. The cardboard casket.

It pains me to think he may have been some kids best friend. But then, this is why my cats are indoor cats. And why they have collars and chips.

He may also have been a stray or feral. Just...don't know.

What kills me is that despite his injuries, I could tell he was a beautiful cat. And no matter how accidental, no matter how unintentional, I feel like complete and total shit about this.

And as I've had a low level of acid and bile from all of this all day, I get a thing in the mail from the GI doc. The biopsies came back, and I'm back to having Barrett's Esophagus, which is basically a condition where my esophageal cells have mutated into something thicker, and are more likely to mutate further into cancer cells. Hence, more frequent endoscopies, more aggressively working to prevent gerd, and so on. With the stress from work, and now this recent...incident? Tragedy? Added stress? Yeah, I can feel my stomach eating itself right now.

The only good thing from the last day is that I finally got my damn windshield replaced. There was a tiny, very thin scratch on the new glass that I may have never noticed if they hadn't said anything, but they did, and they took $100 off for it. Also, when they took the old windshield out, they sanded down the rust from two windshields ago, that was done sloppily by another company and leaked like a sieve, and treated that. And cleaned/vacuumed the front seats and footwells as well as cleaning all the windows. Given that they took almost half the price off for a tiny scratch and everything, I'd highly recommend the Safelite shop on Kirkwood Highway for automotive glass repair or replacement.

Rocky...knows I'm upset in general, and he's been a little extra affectionate today, which just makes me feel worse. I feel like I betrayed his kind somehow. And considering how karma likes to make me its bitch, I'm terrified of something similar happening to him. Then again, he's an indoor cat and is perfectly okay with that. The door can be wide open, and he'll just sit at the edge, no desire to go any further. All of my cats have been like that. The furthest any of them ever wanted to go was the garden in the front yard. Some of them liked to sit in the back yard, but that was problematic, because they saw the deck as a neat part of the house and liked going exploring under it and were real pains in the ass about coming out when it was time to go inside.

But, yeah, I'm feeling pretty crummy. Maybe esophageal cancer is a just punishment for me or something.

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wookiemonster

January 2015

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