Poor Kiefer

Well, it's kind of strange that I just blogged about our cat a few days ago. Kiefer got hit by a car this morning and died. Poor little thing. He was only about 6 months old. He was pretty bad about laying down in the middle of the road and not moving out of the way of cars.

I think the hardest thing about it was having to tell Jackson. That cat slept on Jack's bed almost every night. After I picked Jackson up from preschool, I pulled over in a parking lot and parked the truck and told him to come sit in the front seat with me. I told him that Kiefer got hit by a car. He asked me if he was still alive. When he realized he was dead, his eyes welled up with tears and in a quivering voice he said, "Well, we'll just have to get a new kitty." He said that if we get a new kitty, he'll be more fun than our other kitty. Man, I guess I was expecting a little more sympathy from Jackson. When we were almost home he said, "He was just a baby kitty. And it's more sad when baby kitties get hit by cars than when kid kitties or gown up kitties get hit by cars." I told him I agreed with that.

So, anyway, I'm pretty sad about the whole thing. He was a really good cat. And as far as I'm concerned a good cat is hard to come by. I don't think Phillip and I are going to be just real eager to run out and get another cat. I guess we'll have to see how Jack feels about things over the next few days. Overall, we have not had very good luck with cats.