Death in the shed


I saw three of them playing in the back garden earlier this week. When I went to the garden shed to pick up the fish food for the goldfish, they scurried and hid in a corner in the shed.

I don’t know how long these patchy black and brown kittens have been living in the shed. They must only be a few months’ old. But from the way they behaved around humans, they were certainly strays.

I didn’t leave any food out for them because I didn’t want to encourage them to start living in the garden. If they were wild, I had hoped that they would eventually¬†leave to seek food.

To my shock and dismay, I went back to the shed a few days and found one of them dead on the ground. She just laid there peacefully and I thought she was asleep. It was when she didn’t rouse that I noticed she wasn’t breathing.

Sadly, I had to leave her there for another cold night before R could remove it the next day. I was on edge the whole night and did not sleep well, thinking of the poor kitten lying all alone in the shed.

The next afternoon, he picked it up and I insisted that we dig a hole in the back garden to bury it. I didn’t like the idea of chucking the body out with the trash because I think it deserved a decent burial. So R dug a foot deep hole and I placed the plastic bag at the bottom. I said a prayer and hummed a religious tune, then covered it up with soil. Then I plucked a stalk of honey-suckle from the bush and stuck it on top of the grave.

That night, I couldn’t hold back and cried. For a kitten whom I don’t even know. Whose life was so fragile.

I kept thinking of her lying there in the cold, scared and alone. Could I have done something to prevent her death? Did my actions kill her? I don’t know. But I’d like to think that she is at least now safe, warm and about to start a new blessed life.

Explore posts in the same categories: Drama, Life

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