• A few years ago, (about 3 or 4) my mother started obsessing over cats. She wanted one very badly, but we already had two big (but friendly) dogs. We weren't sure if the dogs would attack the cat. But, one day she saw a cat online that she fell in love with. His name was Jack. Apparently, Jack and his twin brother, JoJo, had been found in a cardboard box in a park. When my mom heard this story, she immediately asked for the price on Jack. The man who found them and was selling them (he ran a cat foster care service and needed money, that's why the costed money. He wasn't a bad person trying to take advantage of the cats) said he was only $60. My mom didn't hesitate to buy him. After all, Jack was a beautiful golden cat with a bright white stomach and soft fur, so he seemed perfect. But the man said that Jacks brother hated leaving Jack and he gave us Jacks brother for free. Jack and JoJo were twins but so different. Jack was big and strong, JoJo was small and skinny. Jack had gorgeous golden fur, JoJo's was golden, but a dullish, gray kind of gold. And, if that wasn't enough, JoJo had horrible nose allergies. He would sometimes sneeze out the HUGE (and disgusting) boogers. So, JoJo was always the underdog (or undercat..?)
    A couple years later, JoJo was even more of an underdog. He began to pee anywhere, not just his litter box. He was sneezing more and more, and would wake my mom (who had a newborn baby and got about 2 hours of sleep a night) up when she was sleeping. So, I began to resent JoJo a little bit. Why couldn't he be perfect like his brother? I would ask myself. We had to take JoJo out at night or else he would pee on someones bed, so I did it. Whats horrible about it is I almost enjoyed locking him outside overnight. Then one Sunday, a week before I uploaded this, I took him outside and said to him "Maybe try to be a good cat, ok?" and left him out there. We would always let him in early in the mornings, and when we opened our backyard door he would always come running in. But, the next day, he didn't. I didn't even notice his absence. Monday passed, and on Tuesday night my step-father said "Where has JoJo gone? i haven't seen him in days." I realized I hadn't seen him since I took him out and said those horrible things to him. "I last saw him on Sunday night when I took him out," I said. "What? We were going to let him stay inside overnight. Why did you take him out?" my mom asked. We looked for him, even though this was at 10 P.M. We looked around our neighborhood, since Jack and JoJo loved walking around. They always came back, and they never went far, so we let them. JoJo never went too far, but we searched our entire neighborhood. Wednesday morning, October 16th 2013, someone knocked on our door. "I heard your cat went missing," he told us. Then he asked to talk to my mom outside. I tried to eavesdrop, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Then the man left and I asked my mom what happened. I was grinning, because i thought we were getting our cat back. As mean and cruel to JoJo as I was, I was worried about him. My mom looked at me in the eye. Her eyes were red, as if she had been crying for hours, although there were no tears. She simply said "JoJo got hit by a car." And a feeling of horrible dread came over me. I've heard people say in books that their heart sank or that they felt themselves getting older, and also that their knees turned to jelly. I never thought they were actual feeling, but I felt all of them at that moment. "Oh..." I whispered and walked away.
    The pain and regret I felt was horrible. I was so mean to him, and it made me feel horrible anger directed at myself. I had been mad at a cat for doing things he couldn't help doing, like the sneezing and peeing (JoJo had a weak bladder, at least i assume. He would act so guilty when he peed). But what I really felt was guilt. I had took him outside and locked him out when he was allowed to be in. I locked him out, so he probably walked around looking for a place to sleep. He jumped out of our backyard and into our front yard and crossed the street, right as a car turned the corner.............................................. I hate myself because his death was my fault. If I wouldn't had taken him out, if I would've been kind to him, he would still be here today. And even worse, The last things poor JoJo ever heard was me being rude to him.
    JoJo's story is one I will never forget no matter what. JoJo was abandoned at a young age, and got sent to us, although we only wanted his brother. He lived his life in his brothers shadow, frowned upon and an outsider. He deserved to go to some one else that would have treated him better. I made his life horrible. The main lesson I have learned from this is to never dislike or hate someone for no good reason. You never know how much you will miss them when theyre gone forever.

    Below is a picture of JoJo:
    <img src="http://www.deffe.com/control/img/2013/10/18/3096049-guest_1382128546_52619ba22dea9/medium/1382128567_banlalhcuaaavrp.jpg" alt="2538183196_8baf9a8015.jpg" border="0" />