I had just (narrowly) survived what I described to my husband as the most infuriating grocery shopping trip of my life. My three- and four-year-olds touched at least 3,567,492 items in the supermarket. Plastic-wrapped mushrooms were poked, signage was damaged, candy bars were fondled, and bags of rice were shaken. To the other shoppers, I must’ve appeared as a harried harpy incessantly reeling my little monkeys in. “Get down.” “Don’t touch.” “Get off.” “Come back.”
Groceries and children safely stowed in the minivan, we set off for home. The one-hit-wonders station played “Happy Days,” and I bopped along to the music. (Did you know it was a full song and not just the musical accompaniment to the TV show’s title sequence? Me either.)
Then there was the thud to the right front fender. I glimpsed a mottled brown creature being flung to the side of the road. Ugh. A groundhog? A rabbit? Uncertain, I found a place to turn around and doubled back. Though I’m not a hundred percent certain, I believe I hit a long-haired cat.
I may have been going a little over the speed limit on the two-lane road, but with no berm and only high grass lining the side of the road, I doubt I had any chance of avoiding the animal even below the posted speed limit.
I felt sick. A cat. I’m not a cat person, but still.
Homes along this road are sparse and set back from the road. It could have been a feral cat. Maybe a barn cat. There’s not even a safe place to pull over and examine the animal to see if, however unlikely, it had a collar or tag.
After I got home and unloaded all the groceries, a glance at my driveway reminded me what had occurred immediately before we left for our grocery trip.
The little kids often head out into the fenced-in yard ahead of me while I put on shoes, gather my phone, keys, purse, etc. I knew they had stepped outside ahead of me, but when I walked out the door, I spied the gate at the end of the yard propped open with a squirt gun.
My four-year-old, who I’d known had been fiddling with the child-safe locks in recent days, had finally mastered opening the gates. My preschoolers were standing where the driveway meets the road, tucked behind the minivan. Right where cars often zip down the gentle slope descending from the development behind us.
And all afternoon, I heard the thud of that cat in my mind’s ear. Over and over. Only instead of the victim being a mottled brown creature, it was my son (the younger and more impulsive of my two youngest children). I replayed the image of my precious three-year-old boy peeking around the mini-van. My sweet, greeting-card grabbing, meat-package poking little man.
How quickly things happen. Life-altering things. Share on XI likely killed a barn cat. But my children were safe. (Blessed be their hard-working guardian angels!)
I’m grateful for the reminder to treasure each moment. Treasure each loved one. On Mother’s Day and every day. And to doubly secure the gates with lock and key.
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Wow, such a moving post. I’ve hit a deer and it was awful. Love the title. It’s so true that anything can change in the blink of an eye. So glad your two little ones are okay.
Thanks, Ellen. The funny thing is that this particular road is known for deer crossing, and we often see does and fawns in the fields and meadows on either side. I’m alert to the deer but hadn’t given the smaller creatures a second thought.
Wonderful post and a great reminder to treasure each moment. Glad all is well with your little ones.
Thank you! It’s a hassle for the rest of us, but we’ve locked the gate at the end of the yard.
Awwww! I’d come over with a Milky Way if I lived closer. I’m glad the kids are OK–and I know that “blink of an eye” feeling all too well. Hoping the locked gate will give you that little extra moment of mental security as well as the physical security it provides your preschoolers.
Thanks, Barb. One gate has to remain open, otherwise the big kids can’t get on the bus without a huge hassle, but having one locked helps. And the four-year-old has been schooled in not opening the gate without a parent or older sibling with her.
I can relate to the grocery store scene, and I can relate to hitting a cat. The only difference is I hit a small dog, but he survived somehow. It was a miracle to see it walking on the other side of the road when I thought for sure I had killed it. I was so glad I hadn’t, but I still think about it when I read something like this to jog my memory.
I hate hitting any animal, but hitting what could be someone’s pet really does make you feel bad.