melancholyIt was dark, maybe 11 at night, and I was driving home from a friend's house on 101. I was just south of Atascadero, in the left lane, on that fairly straight stretch of road before the Santa Barbara exit where everybody likes to go 80 during rush hour. The freeway itself was a 4-lane road, and the "median" at the time was just a space with a bunch of grass and no guardrail.
I had my high-beams on, I think, and I happened to glance to the left just as I passed an orange cat, walking along in the grass. The cat didn't really have anywhere to go; there were no houses, no people, no shelter around for miles, but there he was ... walking along, going somewhere, though I doubt even he knew where he was going.
I watched the cat for as long as I could. The whole encounter lasted maybe two seconds ... and it was all I could do not to stop the car right there on the freeway and take the cat home with me. (My landlady would have hit the roof.)
I never saw that cat again ... I wonder what happened to him. I wonder how much better his life would be if I had stopped.
-- Des
