I've been sick all weekend but wanted J to have balloons on Valentine's day. Tonight I drove along the rural road that travels between almond orchards and connects my little town to the next larger town. On the way, I passed a cat lying in the road who had been hit by a car and left. I didn't see her get hit, but as I passed I saw her leg shaking and knew she was still alive. I turned around and pulled over. Dodging traffic, I picked her up and layed her by the side of the road. She was still alive, but barely. Half her face was missing and I knew finding a vet for her would be useless. So I sat in the dirt with her, between the road and the orchard, while she died. I told her what had happened to her and said it was time to let go. I asked her angels and guides to be with her as she transitioned. I pet her, and spoke to her, and sang to her, and cried over her. I tried to give her the comfort and love at her death that she never had in her life. At one point I swore I could feel the vibration of her purr under my hand. It might have only been my imagination. After there was no more breath in her, I picked her up, carried her to my car, and lay her in the trunk. I drove home and carried her to the back shed where she will be safe until I can give her a burial tomorrow. Then I went into the house, washed the blood from my hands and arms, and drove into town to get balloons for J so she will wake up to love and light and joy.
Let this be my epitaph. This is who I am.
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