This is not a pretty, kind, cheerful post. Feel free to skip it. I try to only watch happy movies, and read happy things, and, in fact, write as positively as I can, because I think that's what this world needs most, plus escapeism is a high priority for me. I try not to be offensive, a whiner, or a downer. But fact is, sometimes stuff sucks, and sometimes we can't keep it all inside. I don't feel like I have any course of action available to me when things like this happen, except to record it.
This car doesn't brake for pets. I would like it if my cats stayed out of the driveway. I share it with the neighbor, so it dead ends at their house, next to mine. Driveways should be safe for cats, dogs, and children, and if I'm being too much of an idealist, I still think that cars should watch out for pets and kids MORE than the other way around, though critters and youg ones should still take care.
There have been countless times that I've been woken in the middle of the night by cars tearing down this driveway, revving the engine, and giving me an adrenaline fueled panic/ rage that becomes insomnia. The father is a very decent man, but his kid, well he's what reflects poorly on young adults, the stereotypical bad kid. His father has told me that he's at a loss for how to get his son in line.
I have never felt safe enough to say anything, not even tonight when I watched one of this kid's friends, driving this Mazda Tribute, not even touch the brakes for my cat. He was going fast enough that my heart started pounding fast and hard. I was standing right there, and he obviously didn't give a crap. Why am I too afraid to say anything? Because I fear retribution. I'm afraid that I will only come off as, well, a bitch. And that next time, instead of avoiding the brakes, maybe they will hit the gas.
I know this sounds like a pessimistic, uncharitable view of my fellow humans, but all I have to go by is experience. Tonight, my cat was quick enough, barely, to live. I've held a cat in my arms as he died vomiting blood, and I'll never know if he was accidentaly poisoned... or not. Will the next car be too fast? Will the next poisoning be accidental? What can I do? The only solution I have ever been able to come up with is to run away, far away, to where there are no neighbors. On the other hand, having to flee from a society that I have just as much right to be in, safely and without fear, as the next person, doesn't seem right. Hell, maybe I'm overreacting. But I'd rather act before I lose another furry family member, than after. Even if fleeing is the only answer I can come up with. That, and doccumenting it. So here's the record. I hope I never have to write one that ends worse.
The perspective I choose
7 hours ago