Naomi just before we took her to the vet; she didn’t make it, she died on the way.
She would have been 18 next month.
Her kidney number were looking good, and we were doing decently at getting her thyroid meds into her. She was eating less and less the last few days (we’ve been tempting her with special foods and home-made chicken broth for two years), but we didn’t expect things to wind down nearly this fast.
Yes, the cat ran into the car. Yes, the car was moving. In a straight line, in a traffic lane on an ordinary street, no other traffic, not exceeding 30mph, full daylight; nothing weird.
I wasn’t driving, so when I saw the movement in my peripheral vision I could turn and watch just that. The cat ran across the front yard, out into the street, and bonked head-first into the rear door of the car, bounced off, turned, and ran back into the yard.
I hope it was okay; I can only think it was not quite right in the head already, or else maybe there was something I didn’t see — maybe it was chasing something I missed? Maybe, but I saw the cat run far enough it wasn’t close to anything it was chasing. Dunno, obviously. It was extremely weird, though.
(This happened ages ago, in the mid 1980s, when a friend visited us in Massachusetts. I’ve mentioned it online before I know, but I don’t think I’ve told the story carefully in a place I can find it later.)