It has been there for weeks, hope rotting away slowly underneath a cover of tightly woven wraps of clear shipping tape and the dreams of some child fade away along with it. I can visualize the parents trying to placate their crying offspring with the making of this unwanted poster and then supporting them with reassuring words as they trudged cheerlessly pole to pole wandering through the motions of self-deceit. The self-knowledge eats at their souls but stays buried behind quivering lips.

The gnawing introspection that the damn thing probably got smoked by a car and in the above average temperatures it dried out and was pounding flat by passing traffic. And then some kids from the hood wandered by and kicked at it and maybe one of them grabbed it and threw it like a frisbee, a fur frisbee. And then it floated off in the dry air and landed in a pile of old fence boards.

And in the back of their minds a thought bubbles up to the top - maybe we should have just got that kid another damn cat.