Beyond the Curve

I had an appointment with a talent agent today at 3:30. I missed it. The fates came to visit. On Melvin Street. In the body of a tortoise-shell cat. A cat that was panicked and scrambling to mount the right-hand curb, at the curve on Melvin Street only absurdly, its back legs weren't working. I stopped, knowing that if I did, I risked missing my appointment with the talent agent. I got out, left my car door open and went after the animal that had made it all the way across someone's yard and was now partway through an opening under a deck, blocked off with latticework. If it succeeded in pulling itself all the way through, I wouldn't be able to collect it. It would surely die there, enclosed in an inaccessible 3X4 shadowed space, where it tried to seek shelter. I picked her up, gathered her to me, not knowing her pain, afraid to hurt her, but also spurred on by the possibility that shock may have anaesthetized that latter part of her, the part that wasn't fast enough to cross the street in time, chased by the other cat, the white one with the red collar and black blotches, who wouldn't leave the scene. I held her and comforted her, brought her into the dwindling warmth of the sinking sun. She was calm, her lower lip was bleeding too, unnaturally hanging too far from her lower teeth. She was quiet in my arms, her eyes looked into mine, then sometimes looked passed them, skyward. There was a man. A lovely man, a brave man, a caring man with two children in his van who stayed. He was the one who had hit her and he had stopped. He had stayed. He asked me what to do. He told me he tried to miss her, he was only driving 10kph, she just ran out in front of them... his children were in the van, he didn't want them to see her. I listened to him. I listened more to the cat's body, her lower spine pulsed rhythmically, deeply. The man told me there was blood all over me. I looked down in a neutral astonishment and noticed that my left boot was covered in blood, so much blood that it pooled around my foot on the pavement. That was what the pulsations were, she must have had so much internal trauma, never mind her spine being broken. He went to his van and brought back an old pillow case and bottle of Windex and tried to wipe off my boot, soaked with blood. I assured him that the boots didn't matter, they were second-hand... I wanted to heal her, to hold her, to comfort her, to make her better. My right hand was on her chest, under her arms and her warmth was dwindling, as was her heartbeat, she was going. He was quiet, talkative, consoling to her, doing his best. The kids were still, after half an hour, looking on from the car. Another woman, walking by noticed us. She went home and brought back a blanket. My left arm was burning, shaking from remaining immobile, holding her for over a half hour, and the SPCA arrived. The woman told the officer to keep her blanket with the suffering animal. The man explained everything, took the blame for everything. The officer admitted that 'no one ever stays'. He took off the lid of the carrier, I laid her into it, trying so hard, until the last second to engulf her in my warmth and love. We all quietly clamped on the top of the carrier and closed her quietly into the back of the truck. The man asked for the SPCA officer's card, so that we could check up on her. The officer was frank and said that if there was no collar, no owner, they would euthanize her, because of the cost. I thanked the woman who gave up her blanket, which may not have been an easy donation to absorb, and I almost left, but then went to the man and hugged him, long enough to feel his body relax, and told him he was a good man, that these moments happen. This is life. We are in it together. I cried in my car, I wailed, I howled. But I was filled with gratitude. I called the SPCA, she was put down. I will never forget this lived experience and the many gifts I received from the fates. Life is real, unpredictable, an invitation. Don't hesitate to step up. Step in. Feel, learn, open your arms and widen your gaze.

© 2015 Pandora Topp