His name was Little Boy, and he came to live with me at just a few days of age with his sister, Little Girl. I had never really been what they call a cat person, but that all changed the first time I held them. Together we  struggled through the hour eye dropper feedings, then the bottle and finally solid food.

They were quite the pair, but Little Boy, aka Tom Kitty, had a special way about him in everything he did. They brought so much love and joy into the home, but he was the special one.

When I came home he would always, he would always be on the counter by the door with shining green eyes and patting at my arm as if to say, “Welcome home. I’ve missed you.”

He would curl up next to me while I watched TV. When it was bedtime, he would give me a soft meow and head to the bedroom where he would cuddle up next to me and purr that sweet song cats sings when they’re happy.

But this ended Sunday, April 24. My beloved cat had attempted to follow me to take out the trash without my knowledge and had been struck down by a driver that didn’t even care enough to slow down, let alone stop to see if he was dead or alive.

There were no more bright eyes, no soft pats on my arms, no more gentle purr lullabys — only a broken heart and emptiness.

How many animals lose their lives daily to uncaring drivers? How many pet owners suffer this loss?

Do these drivers even regret this at all? Do they even think about the pain and suffering of not only the animal, but the person who has lost a beloved pet.

This happened on Bethel Road, a simple country road with no speed limit signs, but that doesn’t make it a race track, so stop acting like it is. Slow down and be prepared to stop suddenly because one day it could be a child.

So I’m hoping this story helps save someone else’s pet. Although he may not have meant anything to anyone else, he meant the world to me. He was my friend, my companion, my joy — not just a cat.

 

Ann McManus is a Lincoln County resident.