Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Tonight, on my short walk from the street car stop to my house, I witnessed a cat being mauled to death by two, large raccoons (and yes, I do live in downtown Toronto). I can't imagine how the argument started, or why the second 'coon decided to step in and help his buddy. I don't know how long they had been scrapping for. But there they were in the middle of the road, two snarling animals the size of dogs, high pitched screams coming from their mouths and a small, brown cat, barely mewing as it was killed. I was mortified. I feel a lot of remorse for not doing something to stop it, for not saving the cat. I feel sad for the family who lost a pet.

It was the first time that I had ever, in my entire life, witnessed something die. I've never seen an animal be euthanized, I've never been in the hospital room while someone was on their death bed, I've never watched one animal kill another. It's a strikingly present image. I can't imagine how I managed to go 22 years, escaping death entirely.

I hope that everyone, and their cats, are safe at home tonight. I'll say a little prayer for the kitten who died, and thank my lucky stars that I don't live in a place where people witness so much death that they are desensitized to it; I am thankful tonight for how little I've actually seen.

-b