The phrase “adding insult to injury” has been much on my mind of late. It’s one I’ve heard as long as I can recall. But never gave much thought to.
Recent thoughts began with the death of one of our cats. The younger, Potter, barely 2-years-old, didn’t come home one night. She was an indoor-outdoor cat. During warm months, mostly the latter. But had never before stayed out all night.
At first, we didn’t know what had happened. People responded to posted flyers, saying they had spotted a cat, late night, lying curbside. We went to look; but by that time, all that remained was a large pool of blood. More blood-loss than a cat could survive. In the early stages, this was all the information we had.
Since we had no idea what had occurred, I assumed: She was hit by a car. But my partner is darker than I. And at times, goes to the worst possible scenario. He suggested someone might have used her for target practice. “It happens,” he said.
Of course, it does. With all the mass-shootings … at schools, movie theaters, concerts, malls, a garlic festival … I’m only too well-aware of it. We all are.
Throughout that day (7/17), we learned more. A woman who’d witnessed the accident … that is what it was … saw a flyer. She came to tell us what happened.
