Journal 2006
Regret is like being covered in mud—easily washed off with some divine truth. But if my actions cause others to suffer (whether intentional or not), and they end up with mud in their eye, saying sorry doesn’t reverse the consequences.
One time, I accidentally ran over a cat that darted in front of me. Out of the house flew a lady screaming, “You murdered my Fluffy!” I was terribly sorry it happened; I duly apologized and offered to assist her, but she refused my help. I had to leave her sobbing in the street, dead kitty in her arms, with the pain of her loss in her heart.
I am no murderer. Involuntary kitty-slaughterer, yes, but it was an accident. I felt sorry for the cat and for the lady, but there was absolutely nothing I could do to resurrect that animal or ease the woman’s pain. I prayed for them both.
I had metaphorically kicked sand in her eyes. I can apologize and offer to help wash it out. At the point of her refusal, however, my obligation is done. It is her choice to tolerate the sand and not wash it out herself. All I can do is walk away—or sit on a log and watch—and if she starts to stumble, to catch her because she can’t see the logs under her feet. But if she refuses my help or rejects me, I’m wasting my time staying with her on the beach.
Addendum: the cat lady’s neighbor put my mind at ease when she came out to see the commotion. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m not surprised. It was just a matter of time before that dumb cat would get hit, for it kept crossing the street.”
In the Pursuit of Peace 
Cats are an interesting breed. They prance around like they own the place…and for the most part, they do. I’ve had my fair share of cats (none of which I was ever allergic to, seems only certain breeds like Siamese have ever given me problems) Peaches seems to be an okay breed. I take that back, Daisy (or Dixie) in Indiana was a yellow tiger and I was a mess around her…but I digress.
They also have a proclivity to cross the street as oncoming cars are coming at them. Is it a death wish? Maybe that is why God gives them 9 lives; he knew they were wired to take risks. I have nearly caused harm to my and others vehicles trying to avoid running over them. I hit a dog once when driving down Clark toward home. As you round a small curve just before the light at N Tennessee Blvd, out of my peripheral vision, I saw a rather large dog bolting across the lawn, heading toward the street. I thought, “No! Don’t do it! I couldn’t stop and others were behind me going my same speed. Sure enough, I hit the dog and kept driving. I had to or create a pile up. I felt really bad, and I’m sure it was someone’s pet…but I just hoped it was only “clipped” and that the owner could take it to a vet. Dumb dog. I hated that it happened, but I couldn’t help it. Sometimes, you just have to let it go and pray for the owner…and well, the dog, too.
Lots of regrets in my life, but few are along the lines of animal slaughter…thank heavens. We are commanded to take care of our beast, and that may not just mean an animal. My car is my beast and I try to keep it in good condition. But that’s a topic for another day.
Wellsy
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