Dead Cat

It's hard to know what to think when you find a full-grown long-haired tabby, well into rigor, wrapped in a hand-towel and left by the trash can on the green across the street from your house. Something about the way the cat had been wrapped suggested that it was a well-loved pet (it was full grown and well fed--dunno what it died of), but just leaving it in the grass argues not so much love. I don't know what I'd do if a pet died at home with no warning; I have no idea what the rules are about such disposals, and in an urban area burying poor Puss in the backyard may not be feasible. Even so, this seems a little harsh. People often pull over and dump stuff--broken TVs or furniture or a bag of garbage--near the trash can, on the theory that the city trash collection would deal with it; I guess the kitty was just one more bit of trash, poor thing.

Emily, fortunately, did not seem moved to investigate. I might have picked the poor thing up and put it in the trash can, but not knowing what it had died from this seemed a little risky. I felt guilty walking away, making it someone else's problem.