R.I.P.

This afternoon a man came to the door to tell us a black and white cat had been hit by a car and he had just moved it to the side of the road. It was still alive, and he wanted to know if it was ours. Evan and I made sure the kids were okay and hurried down the road to see. Sure enough, it was one of ours. And as luck would have it, it's Emily, who has a three-week-old kitten that's still nursing. It broke my heart to see her lying there in great suffering, not able to understand what's going on. I cried as we moved her away from the road, over by the cemetery across the street from our house, and Evan called an animal hospital in Manchester to see about taking her in to be put to sleep. He found one and took her about 20 minutes ago.

I told Jed as gently as possible. He cried a little but he's more concerned about the kitten's loss than ours. I assured him we'll take care of it. I'm hoping Chloe never asks. If she does I'm not sure what I'll say. She feels things pretty deeply so we definitely won't give her the details. Evan is going to ask the animal hospital what we can do for the kitten.

So that's our drama for the day. I hope none of you ever have to see what we saw today!