Death of a Street Cat
Tonight at about 9:00pm I received a knock on my door. It was my neighbor saying he thought my black cat was hit by a car.
I don't "own" a black cat, but I knew who I would find as I made my way down to the street and my heart sank.
There, lying in the road, was Spike Lee. A little black cat that was one of the ferals I feed.
Spike was a very special cat to me. She was born under a house at just about the same time as Hurricane Katrina hit. Her mother, "Mama Lee", managed to keep her, and two other of her siblings safe, at least for a while. Mama Lee may have had more than 3 kittens but 3 was all I ever saw.
I first saw them when I came back to New Orleans to mitigate damage after the storm--3 black kittens running from me through the tangle of debris and branches from the trees that had fallen on my house. I tried hard to catch them to take them back with me to Baltimore when we went back up north but they easily eluded capture by running into spaces a human could not follow. I returned to Baltimore without them but though of them often and hoped they found the food I left for them and their mother.
When we finaly returned home for good 2 months later I saw them again--only this time there were only 2 kittens left. Times were hard in New Orleans for man and beast and I didn't hold out much hope of catching them. Withing a month another kitten disapeared leaving only Spike and Mama. Eventually Gail and I managed to trap both mom and Spike. They were both spayed and returned to my block where they flourished. Many of the neighbors feed the feral cats and they were starting to get downright fat and Spike started to get friendly.
Mama always remained aloof and wary although I could sometimes manage to get in a stroke or two on her sleek coat before she ran off. Spike however seemed to undergo a transformation after she was spayed. She calmed down and started to trust the neighbors she knew. She would run to me and rub against me, even allow me to pick her up and carry her about. When I sat outside to enjoy the weather she would climb in my lap for a scratch and a nap. She bestowed the same affection on my husband and daughter and certain other neighbors of mine but she never did seen to trust my son completely--I can't blame her. 9 year old boys are sweet but unpredictable.
When the weather got cold I created a warm and dry house for her out of a styrofoam cooler with a hole cut in the side and containing a warm blanket. This house was nestled under my stairs to keep it out of the rain. On chilly nights you would usually find her in there. If you put your hand into the hole you would hear a loud purring, feel the soft rub of a cat's cheek against your hand and find it as warm as an over inside. Sometimes she even came inside the house.
She enjoyed short visits inside with my family. She liked to lie among us on the couch, watch the other animals and take a nap. Once she was done napping she would want to back outside again. I tried very hard to make her a house cat and to let her know that she could call this home but she would have none of it. She refused to use an indoor litterbox--in fact she would go to the bathroom anywhere BUT the litterbox; as if she found it distasteful and demeaning. In the end I had to be content with allowing her the freedom she craved. I worried about her and took her to the vet when she needed it, like the time she cut her paw and got it infected. She allowed me to drain, clean and tend the wound, tolerated the vet visit and came running when I called to take her medication. She was streetwise and savvy. I thought she would live a long life and intended to take her with me if ever I moved but in the end I was terribly wrong.
A little over a month ago Mama Lee disappeared. Just today I realized that something awful had likely happened to her and I would never see her again. As I stood out front of the house thinking these dreadful thoughts Spike came walking up--looking for love (and food) as always. I'm glad I wasn't in a hurry. I'm glad I took the time to stroke her soft fur and cuddle her living body because that was the last time I saw her alive.
At 9:00pm I made my way to the street to rest my sad eyes upon her sweet form lying dead in the road. Several neighbors were out--visibly upset. None of them wanted to believe that it was the sweet cat that had adopted an entire street of people. A cat that had at least 5 different names given to her from as many homes. One neighbor was talking on the phone to another neighbor, Wallace. I had the sad task of confirming for Wallace that it was Spike. Wallace was Spikes most recent "adopter" and she spent long hours on his front steps lounging in the shade. Spike always did know how to suck up to us humans.
Another neighbor had seen her get hit. From what I heard a "large truck" came speeding down the street and struck Spike. From what I could tell at the scene Spike did not suffer. She was struck with tremendous force in the head and either died instantly or was at least knocked unconscious. There was very little blood on the road which tells me that her death was quick. I thank God for that small mercy. Other then that tiny bit of blood her small body was perfect--as if she merely fell asleep. I gathered her up and brought her inside. Tomorrow morning I will bury her under the Oleander where she and her mother liked to rest when the weather was nice.
You will be missed sweet cat. I wish I could have done more for you and I apologize for the humans that callously allowed you and your mother to have to live the lives you did. I apologize for the people who ignorantly don't spay and neuter and thus allow tragedies like this to happen. I apologize for the person who was in such a hurry that they had to drive fast, risk lives and couldn't be bothered to stop when they struck you. Wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge little girl. You have a human that wants to claim you when I get there. You are loved. -Elly
Me and Spike Lee
Spike Lee 8-05 to 7-11-08 rest in Peace
I don't "own" a black cat, but I knew who I would find as I made my way down to the street and my heart sank.
There, lying in the road, was Spike Lee. A little black cat that was one of the ferals I feed.
Spike was a very special cat to me. She was born under a house at just about the same time as Hurricane Katrina hit. Her mother, "Mama Lee", managed to keep her, and two other of her siblings safe, at least for a while. Mama Lee may have had more than 3 kittens but 3 was all I ever saw.
I first saw them when I came back to New Orleans to mitigate damage after the storm--3 black kittens running from me through the tangle of debris and branches from the trees that had fallen on my house. I tried hard to catch them to take them back with me to Baltimore when we went back up north but they easily eluded capture by running into spaces a human could not follow. I returned to Baltimore without them but though of them often and hoped they found the food I left for them and their mother.
When we finaly returned home for good 2 months later I saw them again--only this time there were only 2 kittens left. Times were hard in New Orleans for man and beast and I didn't hold out much hope of catching them. Withing a month another kitten disapeared leaving only Spike and Mama. Eventually Gail and I managed to trap both mom and Spike. They were both spayed and returned to my block where they flourished. Many of the neighbors feed the feral cats and they were starting to get downright fat and Spike started to get friendly.
Mama always remained aloof and wary although I could sometimes manage to get in a stroke or two on her sleek coat before she ran off. Spike however seemed to undergo a transformation after she was spayed. She calmed down and started to trust the neighbors she knew. She would run to me and rub against me, even allow me to pick her up and carry her about. When I sat outside to enjoy the weather she would climb in my lap for a scratch and a nap. She bestowed the same affection on my husband and daughter and certain other neighbors of mine but she never did seen to trust my son completely--I can't blame her. 9 year old boys are sweet but unpredictable.
When the weather got cold I created a warm and dry house for her out of a styrofoam cooler with a hole cut in the side and containing a warm blanket. This house was nestled under my stairs to keep it out of the rain. On chilly nights you would usually find her in there. If you put your hand into the hole you would hear a loud purring, feel the soft rub of a cat's cheek against your hand and find it as warm as an over inside. Sometimes she even came inside the house.
She enjoyed short visits inside with my family. She liked to lie among us on the couch, watch the other animals and take a nap. Once she was done napping she would want to back outside again. I tried very hard to make her a house cat and to let her know that she could call this home but she would have none of it. She refused to use an indoor litterbox--in fact she would go to the bathroom anywhere BUT the litterbox; as if she found it distasteful and demeaning. In the end I had to be content with allowing her the freedom she craved. I worried about her and took her to the vet when she needed it, like the time she cut her paw and got it infected. She allowed me to drain, clean and tend the wound, tolerated the vet visit and came running when I called to take her medication. She was streetwise and savvy. I thought she would live a long life and intended to take her with me if ever I moved but in the end I was terribly wrong.
A little over a month ago Mama Lee disappeared. Just today I realized that something awful had likely happened to her and I would never see her again. As I stood out front of the house thinking these dreadful thoughts Spike came walking up--looking for love (and food) as always. I'm glad I wasn't in a hurry. I'm glad I took the time to stroke her soft fur and cuddle her living body because that was the last time I saw her alive.
At 9:00pm I made my way to the street to rest my sad eyes upon her sweet form lying dead in the road. Several neighbors were out--visibly upset. None of them wanted to believe that it was the sweet cat that had adopted an entire street of people. A cat that had at least 5 different names given to her from as many homes. One neighbor was talking on the phone to another neighbor, Wallace. I had the sad task of confirming for Wallace that it was Spike. Wallace was Spikes most recent "adopter" and she spent long hours on his front steps lounging in the shade. Spike always did know how to suck up to us humans.
Another neighbor had seen her get hit. From what I heard a "large truck" came speeding down the street and struck Spike. From what I could tell at the scene Spike did not suffer. She was struck with tremendous force in the head and either died instantly or was at least knocked unconscious. There was very little blood on the road which tells me that her death was quick. I thank God for that small mercy. Other then that tiny bit of blood her small body was perfect--as if she merely fell asleep. I gathered her up and brought her inside. Tomorrow morning I will bury her under the Oleander where she and her mother liked to rest when the weather was nice.
You will be missed sweet cat. I wish I could have done more for you and I apologize for the humans that callously allowed you and your mother to have to live the lives you did. I apologize for the people who ignorantly don't spay and neuter and thus allow tragedies like this to happen. I apologize for the person who was in such a hurry that they had to drive fast, risk lives and couldn't be bothered to stop when they struck you. Wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge little girl. You have a human that wants to claim you when I get there. You are loved. -Elly
Me and Spike Lee
Spike Lee 8-05 to 7-11-08 rest in Peace
posted by WaifNOLA at
9:15 PM
1 Comments:
Elly you are so sweet!
Spike was a very lucky cat!
i believe that she is rest in peace and very happy now! don't worry!
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