A Case of Mistaken Identity: A Story of the Family Pet

It was early one morning about four years ago, and I was still groggy from a good nights sleep. My daughter informed me that it was time to walk her to her school a couple of blocks away. We proceeded to cross the street, and suddenly, my heart sprang in my throat.

What I saw in the middle of the road, in the opposite direction brought tears to my eyes. It was our poor, 1-year-old cat, Cleopatra. It looked as if a car had run over her and smashed her head flat. My daughter looked confused as we walked to school. I did not tell her, but it upset me that she did not seem too concerned about the cat being gone to kitty heaven. I assumed she was trying to be a big girl about it now that she was in fifth grade. I dropped her off at school and made the return trip home.

Once I arrived home, I went to my linen closet and got a towel to wrap my poor deceased cat in. It then hit me that my cat whom I'd fallen in love with was gone. I was crying so hard, I couldn't see the road ahead of me. Slowly with tears streaming down my face, I made my way to my cat. I leaned down, making sure I didn't look at her head as I would have lost it then and there. I remember being so mad, thinking someone must have been driving very fast to flatten her head so badly. I gently wrapped her in the towel and walked toward the house. But before walking off the road, I noticed a car that had been stopped so I could pick up my cat. The lady looked at me strangely, with a confused look on her face. She was almost smirking, but I couldn't tell for sure. I smiled weakly at her and walked towards the house. My only thought was, where will I bury my poor cat? Should I do it before my daughter gets home? Maybe we can plant a tree on top of her to remember her short life. Then I received the shock of my life.