Welcome to DU! The truly grassroots left-of-center political community where regular people, not algorithms, drive the discussions and set the standards. Join the community: Create a free account Support DU (and get rid of ads!): Become a Star Member Latest Breaking News General Discussion The DU Lounge All Forums Issue Forums Culture Forums Alliance Forums Region Forums Support Forums Help & Search

Inkfreak

Inkfreak's Journal
Inkfreak's Journal
April 15, 2014

My Cat Was Run Over. And Then Came Home.

About 10:30pm last night I saw a car stopped about 150 or so yards from our house. It was curious because we live in a rather rural area. But it was kind of near my neighbor so I figured it was him. And mentioned it to my wife. About 2 minutes later she received a text from her cousin saying that she just hit a cat. It looked like ours.

A quick back story: 8 years ago a big tabby ran up to us as we exited the bar late one night. He was friendly and jumped right in our car! He looked rather scruffy so we took him home. I was adamant we would look for his owner. Well, he didn't have one. A neighbor to the bar told us he's been out living in the area for about 2 years. A hefty vet bill later, we had Butters! Or Mr. Butters as he became known. An outside cat except in winter. Loud purring, affectionate head-butting and a lil attitude if not listened to became a welcome addition.

I didn't want to go look. I felt it couldn't be him hit by the car. This cat has some incredible instincts. Going from the city streets to rural roads seemed like an easy transition. He always had an eye on a car if he heard/saw one. We trudged over to the car and there he was. Wet and lifeless. I thanked my wife's cousin for telling us (no blame. She was really upset) and wrapped my boy up and brought him home.

I placed him in the shed and figured I'd bury him in the morning. But I needed to distract myself. So I began digging. When finished I held my boy one last time and buried him. My wife and I sat inside and cried and expressed our shock. I told my wife that I couldn't believe it. I wanted to go to the door and jiggle the handle. It was his "dinner bell", if he was nearby he would come running. I really couldn't believe it.

About 30 minutes later I got up to turn off our porch lights and as I looked out the door I muttered "poor Butters, I loved that cat.". And right fucking then he walked up to my fucking door!!!!!! I buried his dang doppelgänger!!! Folks, I shit you not, I buried a cat that was not mine! We started freaking out. Can't describe it any better. Mr. Butters is alive.

I'll have to check the area today to find the buried cats owner. We don't have a lot of close neighbors and I've never seen another orange tabby like ours in this area. Our closest neighbor does have quite a few ferrel cats on his property. He lets them live in an old trailer. But they're all kinda small and scruffy. This cat was bigger and healthy looking.

So I'm rejoicing but saddened by this poor cat. And it's possible owners not knowing. I'm gonna do my best to find them. But my boy is back! And I can't stop petting him. Thanks for reading my crazy story.

Oh and this is Mr. Butters. Sleeping wherever the hell he wants. Cause he rules.

Profile Information

Gender: Male
Member since: Sat Jun 9, 2012, 08:30 AM
Number of posts: 1,695
Latest Discussions»Inkfreak's Journal