I had had one of those Saturday nights that is passed in a blur it was so busy. I finished at 3:30am and was driving home in that "thank god" daze one has when finishing work at that time.
The black cat was lying in the middle of the road on the white lines. It had not been there long but was obviously dead. I drove on but within 2 yards was worrying in case it was not dead. I mean it still looked relatively whole.
So l went up about 1/4 a mile to the cut between the 2 carriageways and double backed to the roundabout and back up to the cat.
I saw head lights behind me catching up so decided to stop by the cat, haul it in and then go to a lay-by up the road to sort it.
If it was as bad as it looked then it was either dead or to sore to cause me a problem. For sure the pelvis was in bits, goodness knows what else as it was very still.
All went to plan, l opened the door, looked down... yup that black jersey was defiantly dead and not going any place not even a washing machine would clean it.
I sighed deeply, muttered about people dropping items of clothing out of their car windows that looked like animals, and drove home.