Wow. It’s already 2014. That sounds so futuristic, doesn’t it? Here’s something that’s been bothering me for a while: why do we always celebrate the New Year on January 1st? If you think about it really hard, surely every day is a new year, because it’s exactly a year on from that day last year? Only if we forget about the hidden quarter of a day extra (a year is actually three hundred and sixty five and a quarter days), of course. But let’s not get into specifics, for this article's sake. Surely we should celebrate every day of a year for its value and opportunities that are presented to us, instead of bundling all of that positive energy into only one day/evening/hour of sobriety right at the bitter, annual end? I’m sure that’s a much more consistent, productive and positive way of living that would prevent many emotional issues within us: the realism of positivity.

No, this is not just another generalised New Year article about how we should better ourselves. Nor is it about the famous and modestly ignored, often lengthy list of ‘New Year’s resolutions’. It is about a cat.

My New Year celebration (I’m a hypocrite, I know) was abruptly transformed by this cat. A poor, sweet, innocent cat that simply did not know that cars meant trouble. You can probably guess where this is heading.

Crunch. It was a scaringly horrendous experience.

The poor thing simply ran out directly into the path of an oncoming Range Rover. The result was not pretty. With haunting gargles and excruciatingly morbid writhing on the road, the cat spent its last seconds in what I can only assume as agony.

What made the situation worse though, was not the fact that a creature, that had been perfectly healthy a mere few seconds ago, was now lying on the middle of the road, screeching and howling in anguish, whilst I helplessly watched on: it was the fact that the Range Rover did not stop.

The incident was in no way the fault of the driver. My friend and I realise that, but the fact that they selfishly did not stop and just continued along the road, accelerating if anything, is what I find disgusting. Unless the occupants of the vehicle have suspension-filled buttocks (which I highly doubt), then it was pretty obvious that they had hit something.

On the 27th December I also heard of an incident of a similar ‘hit and run’ style. A teenage girl was walking her dog on a near-deserted road on Christmas day, until the dog suddenly ran into the road: again, directly into the path of an oncoming vehicle. Again: this was not the driver’s fault in any way, shape or form. But this driver, again, did not stop.

Why? Guilt, fear? I have come up with a few possible conclusions:


• Some pet-owners are very attached to their pets, and rightly so. The driver may not stop out of fear of being blamed, or perhaps reluctance to being exposed to potential hysteria.


• The driver may blame himself or herself, and therefore may not want to face the guilt. Human nature’s survival system then kicks in (freeze, fight or flight), and the flight option is most likely. So the driver does not stop, and flees the scene.


• Young children may be present in the car. These young children are much less likely to be as understanding as an adult. The sight of a dead animal to them may be quite traumatic: especially if that animal was hit by your car, regardless of whether it was the driver's fault or not. Maternal instincts kick in, so the driver does not stop in order to protect themself and the children.

Mixtures of these possible conclusions are the most likely reason as to why a driver would not stop after hitting an animal. But this does not make it morally justifiable.

My friend and I found the owner, and let her in on the news. She was upset, but rational. I’m sure if the driver had stopped, she would have been perfectly reasonable and understanding to talk to. Even if she wasn’t any of these things, my friend and I certainly would have supported the driver, because as I made it clear earlier, the unfortunate death of the cat was not their fault.

What is their fault, however, is the closure they have prevented the owner of the cat, and the owner of the dog, from fulfilling.

Although circumstance is a difficult thing to grasp throughout the duration of our lives, it is important that we have the courage and ability to reflect our human compassion and empathy onto those in our community: the community of our villages, the community of our towns, the community of the UK, and most importantly the community of the world. The ability to do exactly this will abolish that guilt a driver may feel, because although circumstance is circumstance, and never the fault of anyone, we will always try to blame ourselves for things that we feel we have the ability to control. Accept that circumstance can never be controlled, and sometimes unfortunate and unwanted events happen; conversely, it is these very events that define who we really are, and when the power of community and human compassion really shines through. This is what makes them so important.

As I conclude with that bombshell of a moral thought-provoker: I wish you a happy New Year.