Ours is not dead, her behaviour just warrants the death penalty sometimes.
There seems to be a lot popping up in my life related to dead cats. Our little monster made her largest kill the other week. Not a sparrow, dove or the usual blue jay, but another cat. Being as she’s a runt and doesn’t stand a chance against the large tom she was plotting against on our front lawn, she didn’t kill him by hand (or is it paw?), but instead timed her pounce perfectly with a passing car. The tom ran scared into the car and a few thumps later, our cat was in the road inspecting her latest victim.
Jokes aside, it was sad to see someone’s pet mowed down by a car. The worst part was waiting for animal services to pick up the cadavre (catavre?). The assassination was on the Monday, and it wasn’t picked up until Friday. In the weather we’ve had lately, I don’t envy the poor worker who had to pick up the box we left next to our house.
I thought that maybe this was a time to apply the ideas behind Schrödinger’s cat, but once the fumes of rotten kitty developed I realized I couldn’t consider it dead and alive. It was most definitely dead.
Only reason I write this is because I happened to stumble upon this article about longevity, where the author ponders if he will outlive his cat.
The article is worth the read, but my experience is not worth going through.