"PS: there's a dead cat in front of your driveway... super sad."
That is the text my friend sent me the other night when she left our house. I peered out the window from my bedroom, too dark to see outside. Damn cat.
I woke up this morning and he was still there. The black cat, flattened in the middle of our road, two feet from the end of our driveway. I recognized him as the same cat that Matt found sleeping in our garage the other day when he pulled in from work. We had left the garage open and the warm cement floor in the sunshine must have felt nice.
Two days later we were driving to town and I saw him running out of another barn on our road, darting around a dairy farm.
"That's him" Matt said.
He probably never saw it coming, cars drive fast on our road. No lights out here. He was probably tough to see too, a little shadow darting out in front of whoever was speeding over to their Saturday night destination.
"Why am I crying?" I asked Matt as he carefully pulled the van around him on our way to Home Depot. "I don't even like cats."
There are a handful of barn cats that rotate between our farm, the neighbors, and the other neighbors. We've all got giant barns with hay and protection from the wind. Last I heard our neighbors were keeping their chickens over the winter so they've got heat and food and water. We don't pet these things, or feed them, or even really look after them. I see a cat only on rare occasion as it runs from one hiding spot to the other. There's even one with half a back leg, like it never grew properly, or he got knicked by a car early on. He's faster than hell, with those three & 1/2 legs. I call him 'stumpy.' (I know. Horrible.)
But the black cat dead at the end of the driveway was so sad to me. He probably had the best day. Saturday had been 50 degrees and sunny. I imagine all the mice on the planet were out to shake off their winter dust and it was like an all-you-can-eat Chinese Buffet in the barn. "Another round of mice Rangoon!"
He never saw it coming. We almost never do. Love. Death. Change. The end of a friendship. The car zooming down the road. All the major forces in our life are sort of just waiting in the background to slap us across the face to remind us that we won't live forever, and our time is limited, and we really are not in control.
I've been SUPER into manifesting everything lately. Even more so than normal. Call it crazy, I don't care. I'm a firm believer that you aren't going to get the things you want in life by believing they will never happen and you're unworthy and its crazy to dream big and blah- ew----I do not associate with people like this. #exhausting
Sure. Stuff takes time. But if you're so wanting to change your life- what are you really waiting for? Don't go be all crazy and quit your day job and start selling your button jewelry full time just yet. But put the plan into motion to make it work. Sell the button jewelry on weekends and nights and early mornings and still punch that card each day at your desk. You can make the change happen. And before you know it, Rachel Ray will be wearing that button jewelry on TV and you'll be on vacation sipping a pina colada saying, "ahhhh thank you button jewelry."
I used a snow shovel to pick up the cat. "Sorry little guy. I really am." I sniffled and walked down the road with him in the shovel. A car passed. Filled with kids and probably on their way to church. I chuckled. I'm morbid.
The tall girl dressed all in black carrying the dead black cat in a snow shovel. At least her sunglasses were cute.
I gently put him in a little brush spot just off the road. "Coyotes you can come out now" I yelled into the woods. Let's hope.
Mr. Black Cat didn't wake up yesterday knowing it would be his last day on this planet. I don't even think cats have the mental capacity to think of such things. But none of us ever will wake up and know for sure.
Go eat at the buffet, or make the jewelry, or whatever it is you want.