Alyssa Gutierrez, Senior from Forth Worth, TX
Dear Dead Cat,
I held you in my arms.
Your eyes were still open; staring at me as the gray started to consume your black, bubbly eyes. Comfort was foreign to you. The only warmth you knew was the tightness of the red, washed-up towel, soaked in your own urine.
You were supposed to live.
I wish I was desensitized to death. I wish I wasn’t so fragile when hearing animal abuse stories. I, somehow, wish I could magically be stripped away from experiencing any negative emotions when dealing with the process of rescuing.
I get told, “that’s human, you’re supposed to feel that way.”
“Human” runs over helpless animals because he is in a rush to go to work and the sick, dehydrated cat can’t physically move from under the car. “Human” leaves their loyal companion after 13 years because finding new accommodations is too much of a stressor, but trying to find a new place to eat downtown isn’t. “Human” makes their dog weep because letting out a bark is equivalent to disobeying.
Maybe, I should take a break.
But, that would mean one more cat is forced to starve. One more dog is left out in the burning concrete, trying to find an ounce of water to keep him through the night.
So, I’ll continue to provide a safe place for as many strays as I can. Because, how cruel must the world be to punish these animals if their only crime was being alive?
Thank you for letting me be the arms you went away in.
I’m so sorry you weren’t rescued a second sooner.
You traded your life for an escape from abuse.
May your eyes regain their color again,
Alyssa