Today I saw a cat.

It was a dead cat. Laying and withering on the side of the road. Struck down by wheels full force. It had no chance.

I wonder who's cat that was.

I wonder if they knew.


I pass The Cat everyday, twice a day, on the same road to and from work. I always look at it, to see how far the progression of it's complete disappearance has come along. Every time, I see less and less of The Cat. I feel bad for it's memory.

Death is a part of life, everyone knows that. I am sad that The Cat died, don't get me wrong, but I accept it's death as a necessary inevitability.

What I regret is that when the day comes that The Cat's body is gone entirely, who will remember him?

Will his memory be lost with his bones?

Is that what happens to us?


There is another cat on the road. Dead. Now 2 cats disappear together.

For their sake, and the sake of the short lives and memories they lived, I'll remember these cats. And hopefully, when the day comes that death touches on my shoulder, I won't be forgotten either.

(and maybe I'll see the cats again)