Yeah..I'm aware that this isn't a puppy, or even a dog. This is Spike, my gray tabby, while his 'girlfriend', Trinity, the siamese/tabby sniffs at his paws as he sleeps on my mom's bed.
He always used to come to the name "Puppy" because that's what we would call the beagles that we adopted a few months before him, and he started coming to it as well.
When I say 'used to', I mean that he no longer does, because..well, he no longer /can/. The other morning, I found him dead, about six feet away from a road.
He hadn't been hit on the street, because he was lying away from it, and..it was a bit too obvious to tell that he hadn't moved after he had been hit.
Someone actually would have had to chase him off the street with their car, /aimed/ at him, because he had been walking next to the fence in front of someone's house, and there would have been no way for them to have driven towards the road through a four foot tall wooden fence without leaving some decent evidence, like, per say, the fence being torn down from the house owner's yard and the owners of said fence being pretty ticked off about it.
That said..I just want to know..how the hell can people be so cruel? Hell, I'd swerve off of the road just to /not/ hit an animal, and if I ever accidentally /did/..I'd be a wreck, and hell, I'd have gotten out and seen if it was alright, and if I could rush it to the vet, or even check its tags so I could tell its owners and apologize.
How on earth can someone /purposely/ try to drive after someone's beloved pet and family member? How the hell does this happen? Do people have /no/ conscience? God, I wish I just knew who did it. Being able to string their entrails from one end of a room to another would be payment enough to me, even if it means I'll never get to see my puppy again.
Never get to laugh at him while he sits on top of the water dispenser waiting for me to refill his food bowl, never be able to play with him on the kitchen table as he tries to steal my art as I draw, and never be able to just sit with him.
I even miss worrying about him after he hadn't come home for two or three days, then doctoring him up after he comes back with some new scratches and clawmarks or missing chunks in his ear from a new catfight.
God, even his little girlfriends he would always hang around with have been sitting in our yard and driveway, looking around and waiting for hours, waiting for him to come out and pal around with them some more..and he never, ever will, because some asshole ran their vehicle off the road out of pure cruelty to kill him.
Just..please, everyone out there, PLEASE stop your car when you see someone's cat. At least slow down, even if the cat's in the road. I've watched people see the animal and just keep on driving, and some even speed up just to try and hit it.
Just /think/ about what you could be doing -- the pain you could be causing if you hit this animal, and not just to the animal itself, but to the people who love it and treat it as a part of their family.
Think of how they feel when they find out that some bastard ran their pet over and didn't even have the guts to stop their damn car, or how they'll feel when one day, the animal just stops coming home.
For the love of god, if you can live with yourself after you do this, then how hard would it be for you to have just fricking /stopped/?
I wouldn't even be so damn upset about this if the jerk had just stopped the car, had found our phone number or address on his collar and told us, "You know, I'm really sorry, but I hit your cat when I was driving".
I'd have been shocked, sad, upset..but I wouldn't be blaming anyone, nor craving the revenge that I am now, even though I know I'll never get it, because the dumbass who /murdered/ my baby never had the nerve to stop. Of course, why would they, when they did it on purpose anyway? That's why I use the word 'murder', because..that's exactly what this feline hit-and-run is.