life and death

5:55pm.
I was on my way to grandma's.
A block away, I stood at the street corner waiting to cross.
A little cat on the opposite side seemed lost, walking and hopping toward me.
Cute! But so dangerous! The thought of bringing her back home across my mind.

A black car turned the corner.
Out of instinct and fear, she squatted down.
No!
It went by. Her little body rolled in pain.

I was stunned. I couldn't move.
Two giggling girls went by and threw me a curious look.
A scooter went by. He slowed down, looked at the cat, and drove away.
I crossed the street and squatted next to her.
She's still breathing.
I looked into my bag, pulled out the plastic wrap of my new laptop sleeve, and put it next to her body.
Carefully, I moved her and walked as fast as I could to the animal clinic two blocks away.
Two blocks seemed so far.
Her ribs gently brushed against my palm. I could feel her warmth.

I pushed the clinic door open with my body.
"This little cat got ran over by a car when I was crossing the street one block away." I panted.
I put her down on top of the cold stainless steel operating table.
The doctor examined.
"She's about two weeks old, right?" The doctor nodded.
"I can't hear her breathing. Her lungs could be ripped. I can give her shots to stop the internal bleeding, and see if she can make it."
She looked up at me, "Well?"

My eyes widened. Surprised by her throwing me the decision.
"YES! OF COURSE!"
She gave her two shots. The kitten was breathing heavily.
The doctor pushed on her sides. She twitched in pain.
And then, she took her last breath. Her body stretched and never moved again.
The doctor used two fingers and push on her heart twice.
I started to cry.

"Don't cry. There's nothing we could do."
Exactly.
The kitten was as helpless as I was when she saw that car coming.
She was a stray, dirty and her eyes filled with gum. Two weeks old.
She didn't know better, but she fought for her life. She lost.

"Well, you can bury her in a park or in your backyard."
I looked up. "I don't have a backyard."
My dad and grandma might be waiting.
Then I remember Jay. "Don't they have a kind of service to come and bring the animals to incinerate?"
The doctor pulled out a brochure, and lay a menu of price in front of me. "Hm. Mass incineration would be the cheapest. With her body weight, it would be 48 dollars."
She saw my hesitation of her pointing at the price.
"Yeah, so maybe you should just bury her in a park or something."
"I'll pay." I said it quietly.
If that's the last thing I could do for her.

The doctor dialed the call. "Ok. They'll be here in an hour. Do you want to wait?"
I looked at the clock. My dad and grandma might be waiting by now.
"No. Thank you doctor."
I gave the kitten on the table one last look. I left.