Midnight: the ancient father

When I first moved back to texas in 2005, there was this crazy, stubborn, suicidal cat that would lay in the drive way. He never moved unless you got out and tried to pet him. You couldn’t shoo him away, you actually had to get down and try to pet him to be able to park without killing him.

I’ve taken to calling him midnight since no one ever saw him during the day for years.  Now he’s old, sick, and adores attention.

We don’t know who he belongs to. Hell come around from time to time, sometimes hanging around every night for weeks on end, only to disappear for a few months, then randomly stop in for dinner.

This has been one of those months where he seems to come by every night after not being around for a few months.  He has a few more scars he seems t have traded for his teeth.  We do know someone was taking care of him at some point since he looks to have been hit by a car, then taken to a vet.

His fur is matted. He doesn’t breathe well. But he still comes up to be petted in his greasy, dirty head.

It makes me sad that this sweet cat doesn’t have someone to cuddle up with. It makes me angry someone would just let him run around matted and malnourished. Why bother having the cat taken care of after running it over if you aren’t going to care for it yourself?

Midnight is a testament to things I think we’ve lost as humans, wallowing in our technology. We expect everything to be handed to us. We expect our cars to run, our air conditioners to cool us in summer, our meals to be simple. We’ve forgotten that it’s only from perseverance we’ve managed to accomplish so much. We’re not entitled to anything, from anywhere, for any reason.

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Take a tip from Midnight. He knows how easily life can be taken.

Get off your ass and do something.

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