I hate when it's blatantly obvious that someone went after a squirrel with their car in my neighborhood. It makes me want to hunt them down and run them over.
When I was really young, I has two cats. Tiny (a black cat, named for obvious reasons) and Boots (a ginger-ish cat with white paws). We later saved a third cat from under rocks in a nearby stream. We named it Lucky (it was a grey little babey kitty).
We had these cats for a while, and my whole family loved them quite a lot. Every day after school I would get home and tend to their bowls and litter tray, and whatnots. If they were there, I'd sit down and play with them for a while.
Come one day I get home from like, 2nd grade. Boots is off playing in the long-empty chicken coop that we just kinda, had. Lucky is patrolling the house and being an adorable rukus, and Tiny isn't really anywhere to be seen. Tiny wandering off wasn't unusual, and they always came back by dinner time.
Well they're not back, and even Lucky and Boots show signs of concern. I go out looking for them, and what does little old child me find...
We had these cats for a while, and my whole family loved them quite a lot. Every day after school I would get home and tend to their bowls and litter tray, and whatnots. If they were there, I'd sit down and play with them for a while.
Come one day I get home from like, 2nd grade. Boots is off playing in the long-empty chicken coop that we just kinda, had. Lucky is patrolling the house and being an adorable rukus, and Tiny isn't really anywhere to be seen. Tiny wandering off wasn't unusual, and they always came back by dinner time.
Well they're not back, and even Lucky and Boots show signs of concern. I go out looking for them, and what does little old child me find...
But a tiny black cat, flat on the road.