The cat appeared, another derelict of the night, out of nowhere, from some-damn-where, a figure, I'm certain, guided by providence, trying and succeeding in freaking us both out,.."What the fuck!" We were prepared, as always, for wit and rhetoric, but not tragedy, especially from the annihilation of what was obviously a kindred spirit, a seeker in the night; we hit the furry bastard, could feel it beneath the car, beneath the sustained purpose of our collective acid consciousness; "Damn"'s rang out, seemingly from everywhere as we pulled over, pulled back, got level again, or tried, and achingly real; responsibility and a strange benevolent grace wooed us, so we returned toward the scene, at the same time, eyeing a cop slow down; the impossible demands of prudence forced our faces into masks of sanity and youthful ire as 'Johnny on the spot,' the glaring, uninvited guest approached us and our carnage with caution; "What happened," shocked us both, Traci and me, with the absurdity of the recognizable and plainly obvious; I reigned in my immediate urge to reduce our hunk of authority to 'feeblemind mush' and 'idiot gravy,' answering instead, through a controlled LSD haze, in a supreme triumph of stupidity, "Ran out in front of us;" the critter was moving somewhat, certainly not dead, but not up to an all-night caterwalling vigil,either. In horror and surprise, we saw the pig thing unbuckle his holster, bent on destruction or mercy, we knew not which; "Well," he said, "I guess there's just one thing to do," he was deadly serious, we saw, and we began, in earnest, to protest this outrage, when suddenly, stunningly, as if understanding it's mortality, our furry friend sprang to it's feet, energized by peril, and took off into the night from whence it came, blurring into the background of reality and our brains' "See ya'," we said; smiling at one another, we walked back to the car and drove away, leaving the shiteater behind.