14 November 2011
It’s not my cat. I feed it this morning. It’s not my cat. I found it lying in the middle of the street. I didn’t crash it. I wasn’t in front of my house. It’s not my cat. It’s just lying there with no one noticing or cared.
I went home. I cut my nails because I have to plant I got yesterday from Dago Car Free Day. I dug a hole on the garden of my neighborhood. I dug too big. I’m actually digging for the dead cat unconsciously. I dug another hole, a smaller one for the plant. I then plant the tree-to-be and added a cup of water to finish. I went back home and saw the dead cat still lying.
I made a fight. A fight in my head. I always do because things don’t work like it’s suppose to be and I’m here doing nothing. I hate times like this and it always end up with I have to do something or doing nothing but then i punish myself with the guilt. I asked myself, why should I care? Nobody cares either. It’s not my cat. I didn’t kill it. It’s not dead in front of my house. It’s not my problem.
The fight within continues until I asked myself, do I wanna lose and feel guilty or I start to go the there and bury it. I said I don’t wanna regret. I approached it with a lot of preparation, shovels and large papers. I saw all that blood around the neck and some from the bottom. I will also not forget about its’ eyes. The right is closed and I can feel the moments of rage against the pain till the end. The left eye popped out and I don’t wanna tell more.
It was already stiffened. I couldn’t move it with the small shovel to put it in the big shovel, so i picked it up not by hands but paper. I grabbed it by its stomach. I can feel its stiffness, not soft like a live cat. I put it on the bigger shovel and brought it all the way to the garden on the opposite side of the street.
I noticed the size of the corpse. Its pose is larger than the hole that I’ve dug. I dug some more. I tucked it in and its’ hind legs won’t fit. I don’t know what to do. I feel that there’s nothing more that I can do. I heard my neighbor in front of my house who had way more contact with the cat than I do, opening his gate. I then asked for help. He came and willingly touched the kitty’s legs and tail to get inside the hole -somehow I didn’t think that I could do that-. He then continues helping, burying it, covering the corpse. And I thanked him.
Afterwards I feel shocked. I don’t really understand why but it is totally one big step out of the comfort zone for me.
I prayed to God thinking that what I’ve done just now can melt His heart. I hoped that if one day my dead body is lying somewhere, someone will care to bury me quickly, whether it’s human, or probably a cat. I imagined that one day I’ll meet the cat thanking me…
This event remind me of a movie, Departure, staring Ryoko Hirusue about a man whose profession is taking care of a dead person’s body buy setting them in their best appearance, putting on their best suit and make up. His actions are a part of the death ritual that is watched by the corpse’s family. Then the family can see their passed on relative change from his/her usual look to his/her best look before the body is buried.
The man’s everyday contact with the dead made him appreciate living things. Thanking his wife just because she still breathes.
inhale every moment 
I know that movie, Departure. Long, full of tension, boring movie; but could makes me stay till the end, fortunately.
If I was in your shoes, maybe I wouldn’t push myself that hard. I couldn’t even bear looking at a the dead cat at the second glance. (can we use double “at” in a sentence, Miss?) But maybe that is because I do not socialize with cat frequently. If the cat is my pet, that will be a different matter.
You remind me to Jamie Sullivan, the girl in A Walk To Remember by Nicholas Sparks. And your neighbor, he’s a good man. I just wonder, did you cry when you do that, or after that?
yes, you can use double ‘at’ in that sentence -from what i’ve known so far-. I read the novel actually. I don’t remember crying though, it was a great shock and made my hands cold.