How we hurt. How we are effected by hurting.
I felt a need to share this, though I half fear it might hurt some feelings if read by those involved. I sure hope it wouldn't and hope they know I mean no negative criticism. But the situation touched me very deeply and I didn't want to leave anything out. Also, to any reader, know that this is going to be a little disturbing, so if you are effected by people or animals getting hurt, you may not want to read this.
I was at a friend's house working on my truck as he changed the oil in his van and his girlfriend's car. We were carrying on a sort of play fight the whole time, acting as if we were angry at each other, and sometimes actually getting angry, but then cracking up about it and making the whole thing a joke. I've had anger problems in the past, as well as problems as a kid coping with teasing. Back then I though all teasing was an expression of absolute hate and loathing of a person. I've learned since, as in the case of this playful banter me and my friend were having, that anger and teasing can are sometimes used for fun and is just considered joke around. All those kids I thought hated me and got into fights with where just joking at best, or at worst where expressing there own feelings of inferiority and where just looking for people who could like them in spite of their meanness. So, the bantering between me and my friend was new to me, and I liked that I could channel those angry, frustrated emotions out and have them become a joke and a bond between me and my friend. Although, I was extremely tired that night and some of his banter truly got to me and anger flared quite a bit. I think he sensed this, because he stopped, turned away and said "I'm going over here" or something like that.
He had a small kitty that he and his girlfriend had been taking care of. It had no mother, so they where bottle feeding it and trying to teach it to clean itself and poop without going all over itself. It had been doing quite well and my friend had taken it outside so it could roam around and get some sun and fresh air. Well, the little guy had a cute little habit of climbing on your shoe and just sitting there. I guess it was the only thing it could see of you, since it didn't seem to have the dexterity yet to raise its head to look up at you.
I take a few heated steps away from my truck, going the opposite way of my friend, mouthing off something I felt was humorous when I suddenly felt something soft roll under my foot as I set it down. I took my weight off my foot as quickly as I could and looked down to find the small, gray kitty under my feet, rolled onto its back with it's head turned to the right unnaturally. It was moving, but eerily silent. His paws were splayed out wide fanning the air, his mouth open, and his right eye was black, dilated I think. He squirmed as I picked him up and I shouted to my friend "I think I've seriously hurt your kitty." I felt empty and hideous. My emotions were frozen. I hated myself and yet I couldn't muster any reaction except self loathing for the misstep I had made. I was clueless as to how to react and felt numb. He strode over, acting as if nothing had happened, apparently mentally detached from the ugliness of the situation. "All right, let’s see how bad you hurt him," he said, almost jovially. He took the kitty from my hands and sat it on the pavement. It immediately rolled onto its back, pawing the air. "Yeah, he's dead. Broken neck." My breathing froze as he picked it up and carried it into the back yard, apparently where it could die away from us. I had hardly moved when he came back and he says "I know it sucks man, I did the same thing once. Don't worry about it, it happens. You can't let it..." I think he trailed off, it's hard to remember. Needing to do something other than stand there as I had for the last few minutes, I walked inside to get something to drink.
...
He told his girlfriend he had done it, later telling me "I want you to be able to come to my house still. If you feel weird about it, talk to the pastor about it. Don't feel like I'm making you do something wrong." As she started reacting to the news I looked back to the kitty and saw it rolling around on its back. I walked back and found it trying to walk. It stopped and began scratching it's right ear, the ear on the side of the dilated eye. I called back "Hey, he may be ok." I picked him up and he meowed, the first sound I had heard him make since stepping on him.
...
His girlfriend cried out "He was doing so good!" and began to take him inside.
"Why do you want to take him inside, he's dying!"
"I'm calling a vet."
"I'm not spending any money on that cat. Kittens are a dime a dozen!"
"I'm just going to ask their opinion! Look, he's moving around, he's just hurt!"
"Huh... well shoot, take him in. Who knows, maybe he'll make it."
...
Later, he told me, "The same thing happened to me once. I was walking through the kitchen, stepped on my kitty and slid across the floor, falling on my back! That kitty only lasted a little while, but who knows, this one might make it!"
...
My friend isn't heartless. He's a great guy and a real blessing to me. I would have been in deep poo poo when my truck broke down if he hadn't lent me his truck. Plus, he's helped me every step along the way as we've rebuilt my engine. I think he just shields himself from certain feelings. I think the angry banter does the same thing. I don't know. I probably shouldn't analyze people behind their backs like this.
...
The next mourning I saw my first
I found that evening at church that the kitty was doing ok. I could hardly believe it. I ask if it was walking ok, and he said "Hey, it's walking like a kitten!"
...
It was such a strange event, not just the horror of almost killing that little kitty, but the reactions of my friends, and me. It's not everyday you actually encounter that kind of thing, and how each of us reacted was, in some strange way, fascinating to me. I felt it was important to share this example of people because it seems to strike deep within our characters and potentials.
That's all I have to say about that.
...
Well, unfotrunatly it's not. I had to edit this in. I found out this moarning that the next day, my friend had woke up to find that the kitty had died. He tried to be reasuring by reminding me that he had found the kitty half dead in a garbage can and was surprised it had lived as long as it did. I've been thinking back to the irony of that. He saved that kitty from dying. It had not even openned it's eyes when he found it. He had left it where it was for a good 6 hours in case it's mother came around, but she never did. So he did what he could. It is indeed a strange world we live in.
Another lesson in forgiving oneself anyone?
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