Subject: Frying Pan Cat {Insp}
From: Unicorn (unicorn@indenial.com)
Date: Sun Mar 11 2001 - 02:44:44 EST
"Frying Pan Cat"
It was getting late in the afternoon, and I was falling way
behind in my schedule. I was worried. By now, I should
have had the campsite set up at our local state park.
I should have had dinner started.
All of a sudden, the huge SUV (sports utility vehicle) ahead of me on
the road hit his brakes so hard and fast, I barely had time to react.
I hit the brakes on my little station wagon just as quickly and most
of the camping gear (tent, chairs, stove, foodstuff), along with my 3
dogs
almost ended up in my lap.
I was horrified by what I saw. Out of the corner of my eye a small
feral cat had dashed in front of the vehicle in front of me. It was
flung
up into the air and landed in the middle of the road. The driver
hesitated
for a second and then drove over the kitty.
Long ago, I promised myself that I'd stop to move a dead pet from the
roadway. After all, someday, it might be my pet who meets that
formidable
foe in the road. I made sure my "kids" were OK, and pulled my car ahead
to
within a few feet of the kitten.
I got out and walked slowly to the motionless body. There was blood
everywhere -- its back legs twisted in an unusual angle and its tongue
was
drooped out of its mouth on the hot pavement. I felt nauseous and
queasy.
Now what do I do? I turned around and suddenly realized I wasn't
alone. A huge line of cars were waiting behind me, and some not so
patiently. Horns began honking, people were shouting "to get out of the
road". I went back to my car to retrieve a pair of gloves or something,
anything, to pick up the body. The car was so stuffed with camping gear
and dogs that the only thing I could quickly get my hands on was the
kitchen supplies.
Without thinking about what it might look like to the growing crowd
behind me, I proceeded to use a hamburger spatula to gently lift the
kitten
into the only thing I could find -- a gourmet omelet pan.
Imagine the looks on their faces when I turned around with what may
have appeared to by the beginning of "roadkill" stew in my cookware! The
horns and shouting stopped almost immediately. I wasn't sure how I was
going to dispose of the little body as I walked back to my car. I just
knew I couldn't leave it by the roadside.
As I bent down to gently slide it into an empty grocery bag, I thought
I saw the cat's eye blink.
Oh my Lord!
It not only blinked, but it lifted its head. Needless to say, I
detoured from my camping trip long enough to get to the closest vet. By
the time I arrived, the kitty was shifting its upper body, trying to
move
out of the bag that I'd set on the front seat. By this time, I'd
composed
myself enough to tell the vet what had happened.
The vet agreed that it didn't look good. The hind end was motionless,
the tail almost severed from the body, and an awful case of road rash --
huge flaps of skin hanging from the poor little thing. Through my tears
I
asked her to do whatever she thought best. If it was as hopeless as it
looked, to please put her down. But if there was a chance of saving her,
I'd foot the bills and find her a home. (We already had 3 cats.)
She told me that it's unfortunate that more people don't stop
immediately to help an injured animal. A large percentage of the dogs
and
cats hit on roadways are still alive after the impact, but in shock. If
someone doesn't stop to get them out of the road, its usually the next
few
cars that finish then off.
When I went to leave my name and phone number, I had to have a name
for the kitten. The vet said that homeless animals rarely make it after
such an accident, but the ones who have a name and someone who cares
about
them stand a better chance.
Right then and there, I named her Bruncher -- the brand name of the
omelet pan I'd used. I checked in with the vet over the next few days to
see if Miss Bruncher would make it. There was no paralysis, she had only
been in shock. The large wounds started healing nicely. Her tail however
couldn't be saved. What a sad sight she was, but I knew she was a very
special kitty really meant to live a good, long life.
After 3 weeks of TLC (tender loving care) and some fine nursing, the
vet told me that she was adopted by one of her clinical technicians.
Needless to say, Miss Bruncher always comes to mind when I take my
camping Bruncher pan out of storage.
Plus, I usually get a good chuckle with my camping story, "...why, you
should have seen the look on the faces of the those motorists behind me
when I turned around with the kitty in the frying pan..."
-- Elizabeth Rowland
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