I just read this great @newyorker piece by @peterhessler (https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/05/07/cairo-a-type-of-love-story …) and I'm totally reminded of my own, sadly deceased, monster cat, Harry 1/
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Harry, free from the cage, didn't seem to care that we were heading down 95 at 60mph. He took one look at freedom and made a leap for the open window 4/
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I realized just in time and threw out an arm that just about prevented him from taking a dive onto the fast lane. I managed to close the window but Harry scampered around the dashboard as I headed for the nearest exit 5/
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Flustered, I became agitated when I immediately became stuck in a long line of traffic. What was going on? I honked. It was only then I realized it was a funeral procession 6/
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Eventually I pulled into a gas station and was able to put the cat cage back together. I then drove to Silver Spring holding the cage with one hand so that Harry couldn't break free again 7/
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Harry was a force of nature, a giant ginger cat with paws like a lion and the temperament of a Baltimore alley cat. Sadly that was to be his demise. 8/
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Shortly after moving, perhaps because he was pining for home, he was hit by a bus while making a run for it . He's buried in the backyard. RIP Harry fin/
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Postscript: Oh yeah, this happened too:https://twitter.com/amandakhurley/status/995440931011747840 …
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