It was a hot day on July 4th, and although I hate being in the heat. I was in need for a walk in the neighborhood. The sun shined so brightly, I wore my sunglasses. Sweat dripped down my face. Cars drive past. Music blaring in my ears. People walking, jogging, couples holding hands in the park. It was a bright day, yet a lonely one. Heading back home, I appreciated the popular flower garden an elderly lady took care of. Amongst a couple rose bushes I spotted something orange. Excitement and happiness rose inside me. It was the cat that I had seen just the day before, early in the morning. Prowling and looking for food as it strolled around the apartment building across the street.

I walked up to it, bent down to pet it. Suddenly, a horrid stench reached my nose. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it in my gut as I noticed flies flying around the orange cat. My previous happiness and excitement gone. It’s stomach was flat. Did it get hit by a car? My eyes watered as I stared. So many thoughts ran through my head. Should I tell the elderly lady about the dead cat? Would she care? Did this cat have a family? Did it really get hit by a car? Why did this poor creature die, when I had only seen it yesterday, living its life. In the end, I did nothing. I walked away. Picturing the cat rotting away amongst the roses. My only thought being that the cat should have lived. It should have lived.