Monday, March 14, 2022

Petunia

She was never a formal member of the Moore Family Kitty Clan, but Petunia hung out in Mom's yard for the past three or four years, chasing down rats and squirrels and coming up to the back window and knocking to let us know that she was there and hungry. I'd pop open a tin of Friskies, peel off 3/4 of the can for the indoor beasties, and drop the remaining 1/4 out on the porch for her.

Petunia never let me get close enough to pet her and hissed at me more often than not, but in time we developed an understanding: I put down the food and closed the back gate, and she would come out from her hidey-hole on the porch and eat whatever I'd put down.

When she didn't appear at the back window Friday or Saturday, I just chalked it up to her venturing to her other benefactors in the neighborhood. Or maybe she'd gotten herself locked up somewhere; that had happened once years ago right around Thanksgiving, and when she appeared it was like a holiday miracle.

There would be no miracle this time, though. On my way to the corner store yesterday, I found Petunia lying by the curb just up the block from our house. She'd obviously tried crossing our street--which, though not a main artery, is still fairly busy at all times of the day and night--and had not made it.

I went upstairs and told my brother, who sighed heavily, went outside and moved Petunia away from the curb to keep a car from parking on her. (I'd seen that happen to a cat once before--a horrible sight.) It was the first time he'd actually touched Petunia; he said her fur was very soft.

It's a lousy way for a cat--or any animal, domestic or not--to die, and Petunia certainly deserved better. But the life of a cat on the streets of a big city is difficult. If we could have convinced her to come in to our house, we would have; we tried more than once. It had become part of my routine to feed her as soon as I got up in the morning and when I got in from work in the evening. I hoped that she knew I cared.

But that's all over now. She's dead. And I already miss her.

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