Today, at work, one of the ladies in the bookkeeping department came in to tell me there was a small cat in the parking lot at work and she had fed it but she thought it was sick. I asked her if it was someone’s cat and she said she didn’t think so because it was in bad shape. She asked me for a second opinion.
I went to the parking lot and saw a semi-truck backing up and the cat wasn’t even moving out of its way, which is clearly not the sign of a healthy, alert cat. I rushed over and got in the way so the truck wouldn’t back up further and then bent down to pet the cat, who still hadn’t moved much. I started to pet it, and after a while it started purring.
The cat was, at most, 6 months old. The ears were very hard and not soft and pliable like that of a healthy cat. It was covered in hard scabs — apparently from a long-ago fight. It was very frail, and quite obviously half-starved to death and it was heartbreaking to see it. But it ate all the food it was brought, so that was a good sign. Most sick cats don’t want to eat. We decided to take it for a medical opinion, so I picked up the cat and held it and pet it while it started to purr. I don’t think it object too much, but it clearly was in bad shape. We put the cat in the box for transport. The cat curled up in the bottom of the box as cats are wont to do.
The cat was dead when it arrived at the vet’s office. I am sad.