Our 5-year-old barn cats, Mel and Frog, are utterly phobic of cars. They scatter at the faintest hint of gravel crunching on the drive and they'd never deign to venture down to the road.
Unfortunately Spook, our once-wild cat, was not so wary.
On Saturday night he was hit by a car. The neighbors discovered him and brought him up to the house. But he was gone.
Spook had already been fed for the night and we'd seen him just a couple hours before. I never imagined that he'd head to the road since he didn't venture far from the house. Maybe nocturnal hunting got the best of him.
We placed him underneath a pine tree, not far from where Drippy and Old Kitty are laid to rest.
Felix, who generally keeps his distance, sat nearby and watched us bury Spook. Afterward, he camped out on the fresh earth.
Poor Spook. That once feral beast had become our friendliest cat.
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