I was once in a car that was run into by a cat.
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.)