I killed a cat today.
Dec. 6th, 2007 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catsittingstillOr at least finished one off, anyway.
I was walking up the hill toward the hospital, using my desire to get my soft feet used to walking again as an excuse for being too lazy to get on my bike. On the way home I found a black-and-white cat, off by the side of the road, lying there with its paws twitching. I think it had been hit by a car. It didn't seem to realize I was there, though now and again it would twitch its front paws or pedal with its hind paws--I don't know if this was its equivalent of thrashing in pain or panic or if it was just damaged nerves in the spinal cord firing off at random.
I didn't want to leave it there to suffer, but wasn't sure I could kill it myself without causing it more suffering (or convincing a random driver passing by that I am a heartless murderer of cats.)
Finally I decided I needed to go home and get my work gloves. Whatever I was going to do, it wasn't going to involve handling an injured probably feral cat whose rabies status was unknown with my bare hands.
On the way home I remembered that there are a couple of vets nearby. I took stock of my finances and decided how much I could afford to spend on this cat that I can't keep in any event without my landlords permission (and frankly I didn't think its prospects were good anyway). At home I found my gloves and a cookie sheet. I drove to the first vet, but they only handle large animals (there are a lot of cows and horses around here). I drove to the second vet, who handled small animals and they agreed to look at the cat.
Since there was no place to park near where I'd found the cat (ditch on one side of the road, really deep ditch and rail on the other), I walked from the second vet to the cat (it was only maybe half a mile at most anyway). As carefully as possible I transferred the cat to the cookie sheet. I didn't need the gloves--I don't think it even realized what was going on.
I carried it back up to the vet. You don't realize how much your walk bounces until you're trying to carry something smoothly.
The vet looked at it, and said there was nothing to be done, so I had him put it to sleep. It cost 40$, but that came in under my max price so, okay.
I was only a little sad at the time. But now I feel sadder.
I didn't even know that cat.
I didn't want to leave it there to suffer, but wasn't sure I could kill it myself without causing it more suffering (or convincing a random driver passing by that I am a heartless murderer of cats.)
Finally I decided I needed to go home and get my work gloves. Whatever I was going to do, it wasn't going to involve handling an injured probably feral cat whose rabies status was unknown with my bare hands.
On the way home I remembered that there are a couple of vets nearby. I took stock of my finances and decided how much I could afford to spend on this cat that I can't keep in any event without my landlords permission (and frankly I didn't think its prospects were good anyway). At home I found my gloves and a cookie sheet. I drove to the first vet, but they only handle large animals (there are a lot of cows and horses around here). I drove to the second vet, who handled small animals and they agreed to look at the cat.
Since there was no place to park near where I'd found the cat (ditch on one side of the road, really deep ditch and rail on the other), I walked from the second vet to the cat (it was only maybe half a mile at most anyway). As carefully as possible I transferred the cat to the cookie sheet. I didn't need the gloves--I don't think it even realized what was going on.
I carried it back up to the vet. You don't realize how much your walk bounces until you're trying to carry something smoothly.
The vet looked at it, and said there was nothing to be done, so I had him put it to sleep. It cost 40$, but that came in under my max price so, okay.
I was only a little sad at the time. But now I feel sadder.
I didn't even know that cat.
