On my way home from work at 1 A.M. I was turning onto the main street before our neighborhood when in my turn, my headlights caught a mother cat and bunch of kittens surrounding her. I parked my car around the corner and ran out with my cell phone for light. I found one kitten as small as my cell phone, lying in the road mewing. I looked for the others but they had scattered. I laid him on my lap and drove the 30 seconds home. I woke mom up and she came out and assessed the damage. She said he had been hit. He wasn't bleeding but after she said it I noticed how his back limbs didn't move. I was on the verge of tears but I had so much adrenaline pumping, I just couldn't get any tears. I just kept apologizing. Mom and I went back to look for the other kittens but they were gone. We had put the little kitten in a shoe box and when we came back he was closer to the end. His breath was shallow and he was still. I named him Jonas...even if it's a girl it works. It is Hebrew for dove, and I am a big fat sappy cat-lover. I admit it. I am so sad. Tomorrow Daddy will bury Jonas next to Jack.
I read a short-story about a man who was proud to be an anti-manly man and one of his greatest moments was when he said, "As a straight man who is proud and secure in my sexuality, I am free to to kiss cats." I thought it was silly but I couldn't imagine a manly-man kissing a cat, so I accepted it.
I am too sad to sleep. All I can say is that Jonas died comfortably on a soft towel in our cool garage, and not in the middle of the road. I can't apologize for that. I can only apologize for the fact that if I hadn't taken so much time as the store after work he would have still been sitting by the road when I got to him. I would not have named him Jonas, I would have gone back to the store to buy him some milk and a bottle, named him Calhoun, and Emmitt would love to hate him.
*He was light gray with a white head and white paws)