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My cat Lucy died a month ago, she was a White Maine Coon with patches of black and brown fur, she had one of the cutest meows and they would always break my heart into tiny pieces, I'd feed her almost everyday, we never let her inside though, she was always running around chasing birds and sometimes played with the neighbor's small dog, sometimes she would sleep in the back of my truck, she'd sleep everywhere she could, it always brought a smile to my face when she would greet me every moring when I was going to work, one day she slept in the wrong place, and it ended up being a freak accident that took her life, I was working in my garage at night and closed the garage door and went to bed, the next day I saw Lucy hanging from the head at the top of the closed garage door, my heart started racing and ran to the garage opener in my car, it was far too late for me to save her, when I got her down she was lifeless, I held her in my hands and started weeping tears uncomfortably, an hour later after telling my wife what happened, we buried her, I'm full of so much regret, sometimes I think I hear her when I'm on my way to the car, she would always try to jump in but I wouldn't let her, I wish I could've saw her taking care of her own babies or drive her around the country side, but it looks like fate decided otherwise, I feel so guilty for it, how am I suppose to raise a child if I can't even take care of one little cat?
