Things You can't Catch up to

November 1, 2011
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Aren’t there times where things just stick in your mind for a while, and it’s there for life. I have horrible memories but one that sticks out is a loss, a loss that if you where there you would understand.

It started with fun and a sunny day. I put my dog on the leash and went to play with my cat. My cat was no cat he was my friend. His name was Jar-Jar [Ja-Ja] like Jar-Jar Binks on Star Wars; he would lead me to his food bowl when he was hungry, try to follow me to the bus stop. He was my guardian angel waiting for me on the porch, sleeping with me when I was sick. Jar-Jar owned me. Until one day my grandmother went to get my dog and he got off the leash. All I heard hissing and a quick flash of my dogs black and white fur. I was after them as fast as my 5 year- old body would take me. Aspen trees flew by me green flashes in the warm late summer air behind two running animals their ears back tails in air. Then they were gone around a corner down a dark alley. I found the dog but not the cat. I heard a skittering of feet behind me, I whipped around. Jar-Jar leaped into my arms joyously hugging him I failed to notice the dog approaching, Jar-Jar kneading my neck stopped, not knowing why he was growling I turned around. Jar-Jar vaulted from my arms my dog pummeled me I was tearing not because I was thrown down but the dog was catching up, fearing the worst I sprung from the ground and was running again. Half –way down that dreaded alley, I heard a sharp yowl. No yowl a cat would make more like a screaming girl inhumane. I peeked around that awful corner, I saw my cat in my dog’s mouth, Jar-Jar was alive for 1-split second. I searched the ground as my dog stared at me stupidly, I found an old forgotten football, and chucked it at my dog. Then I beamed well sized rocks at my dog as hard as I could muster till he dropped him just dropped him. I fell to him crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. His jaw was all crooked and his side was torn open. I scooped him up softly blood spurted on me but I didn’t care, all I cared about was the limp cat in my arms, he lay there, just lay there not moving, not breathing, not anything. My feelings overwhelmed me, anger, sadness, the want to kill my dog. That late afternoon I walked ever so slowly home it seemed forever. I held him close on my already blood stained clothes, his black- grey-green striped fur matted in blood still bleeding.
I loved this cat, but what other people don’t think about is what he was like to me. He seemed like he was more than one thing in life, he was graceful as a deer, sleek and fast as a wolf. There was something there I hadn’t figured out yet. He will live as something else now… he is gone. When I ponder this memory I can’t really find a good thing besides he died quickly instead of suffering, and this event made me set my goal even higher to be a vet that travels the world. I don’t think anyone should have this happen to them.

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