It always makes me sad to see little dead creatures on the road, needless and pointless deaths. Heck, I've nearly been rear-ended on the scooter a few times due to stupid adolescent squirrels as they prance back-and-forth across the wooded Lawrence streets. But pets make me extra-sad because someone probably loved this little kitty. Someone should have kept her indoors, too; that part gets my blood up.
I parked and turned off the scooter, just in case she was still alive - so as not to traumatize her more. Reached down and carefully picked her up. Her little body formed to my hands, still warm in the cold evening, so this was a recent death. She was small enough that I could completely hold her in my two palms to keep her from drooping. I moved her up onto the grass beside the sidewalk where her owners might find her intact rather than squished, and it just doesn't seem respectful to leave a dead kitty on the street; what cat wants to lay on the road where cars might drive over her? I patted her and told her she could go now.
This is the third kitty I've found like this: still warm on a busy street. I like to think it soothes them just a little to have someone treat them kindly and tell them they can move on, find a new body to inhabit - hopefully bringing along a little more wisdom about cars this time!
The fluffy white cat (in my icon) with the silk scarf around her midsection is my beloved cat Helen. She was in her last weeks in that photo, feeling pretty in her scarf that hid the shaved fur for the morphine patch, sitting on the counter beside a vase of roses. She dined exclusively on roses and tuna for her last few weeks. Her full name was, "The Great Helen of Peerless Whose Face Could Launch a Thousand Combines." She was my most-loved pet who helped me through a lot of hard times. She was vain and selfish and the most loving cat I've ever known. I miss my Helen this morning, miss her very much.
Here's hoping your little loved ones are safe.