Standing over an empty hole, I could smell the aroma of freshly-turned soil. Confusion and regret swirled within me as I gazed down into this newly-made eyelet in the earth. I was still in shock over what had just occurred. I felt as if the circumstances were my fault. I couldn’t help but kick myself over what could have been done before it was too late. Trying to shake off my thoughts, I quickly tossed a plastic bag from my hand into the shallow opening below. Picking up my shovel, I vigorously filled the hole with dirt until it leveled with the ground. I walked away with a tear in my eye as I thought back to the start of this whole ordeal.
It was a beautiful spring day and the sun gleamed above. My mother, sister, and I had decided to take advantage of the weather by weeding the front yard. While pulling up shoots and sprouts, we heard a vague mewing from behind a nearby holly bush. Indulging in our curiosity, we wandered over to the bush and pulled back the branches, only to reveal a small gray kitten huddled beneath its umbrage. Her brilliant blue eyes stared up at us with helplessness, begging for rescue. She must have been abandoned by her mother and forced to survive on her own. Taking pity upon her, my mother allowed us to take care of the kitten.
After carrying [her] inside, I immediately poured a bowl of fresh milk for [it] to drink [watch for inconsistances like this]. Placing the bowl in front of the kitten, she turned her little pink nose away as if disgusted. I tried force-feeding her, but she still refused to drink. My family and I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to feed the scrawny cat, but she seemed not to be hungry. All the while we had played with her, and soon the entire family grew to love her. She seemed to fill a hole within all of us that we never knew existed. Without question, my parents allowed us to keep her. She had already become part of the family.
Coming home from school two days later, I was anticipant to play with our new cat. As I approached the cage, she was resting peacefully on her side. She lay still as I opened the cage to take her out. I lifted her back paw to wake her, and to my surprise, the rest of her frail body rose with it, stiffened in the same position. I jumped back in horror as the reality of her rigor mortis body set in. She was dead.
With a heavy heart, I buried our kitten in the back yard, under the shade of a tall maple tree. Though I did not know the cause of her death, regarding her refusal of food, I assumed it was because of malnourishment. I blamed myself for not taking her to a vet, otherwise she might have survived. Though I barely knew the poor creature, she took a piece of my heart with her as she found her final resting place in the ground that day.
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Wow. This is excellent work. Well written, well structured, and an excellent use of detail all make this an exemplary narrative. One complaint, your usage of "umbrage" is correct, but, according to the Oxford American Dictionary, it's an archaic usage. In common usage, the word is now meant to refer to taking offense or annoyance with a situation. Your usage, though correct, is discomforting and confusing. Watch out for questionable word usages like that. Otherwise, great work.]
SetAbominae Narrative Remix
Kid, my family’s pet cat, had been a part of my life since the day I was born. He was a wedding present to my parents, so when I was born he had already been a part of the family for seven years. Kid, while extremely intelligent, was a rather mean spirited animal. His nickname was Kid Vicious, after the punk rocker Sid Vicious. He was constantly scratching and biting anyone that came near him, except for my parents. When my mom was pregnant with me, my parents were worried that Kid would not take too kindly to a new baby in the house. They knew that if the cat acted violently towards me they would have to get rid of him. The exact opposite happened when I was born. Kid took an immediate liking to me. So much so, that no one, with the exception of my parents, could get near me without risking scratches and bites from Kid. No harm could come to me when my cat was with me.
When I was six years old, Kid began to get thin. He was barely eating and would mostly just lie around. No more was he a ferocious beast of power; he had become weak and frail. He looked like he was in pain. We decided that it was time to take him to a veterinarian to find out what was wrong with him. Sadly we learned that our cat was dying of cancer. At the time I didn’t truly understand what cancer was. All I knew was that it was bad; it was going to take my cat away from me.
My parents decided that it would be best if we put him to sleep. My parents didn’t tell me some lie about how our cat was going to a happy cat farm for the rest of his life where he could chase mice. They decided that it was best to tell me the truth. The truth was hard to accept and very sad, but I was glad they thought I was mature enough to know what was really going on. We all cried after Kid was put to sleep. The day that happened is one of my saddest childhood memories. I think it was the only time I’ve ever seen my father cry. No matter how many pets I have throughout my life, I will always remember Kid.