A 500-word essay on recalling that moment

The world is full of wonders. Open the small window of memory and splice the fragments of memory. Some things are no longer the simple stories in my eyes. I closed my eyes lightly, but inadvertently thought of that old figure from behind. Recalling that moment, I felt sad and as if I didn't care about life and death.

That was a cat. It was better to say that it was an old cat. It was not a rare breed. It was covered in mixed hair.

I remember the first time I saw it, it was at my aunt’s house. I was not very old at the time, but I could pick it up with one hand. I saw it again during the summer vacation. She was already the mother of several litters of kittens. When I stretched out a hand to catch it out of habit, I found that it was old. The turbidity and vicissitudes in its eyes were something I couldn't describe. It felt like it was starting to guard against me, and I have to say that I was afraid of it.

One day, it was quietly basking in the sun under the eaves. I walked over and it looked at me warily, but it didn't pounce on me like usual with its teeth and claws open. But when I got closer to it, , it suddenly opened its green eyes and ran away. Since then, I haven't seen it for several days. Another day, it appeared under the eaves again. I asked the older people, and they said that the cat was going to die and wanted to find a quiet place for itself. Sometimes I thought, if it died under the eaves, what would happen if it died under the eaves? How unlucky, but it avoided me again, so I had no choice but to let it go. Until one day, the weather was sultry in the summer. I wanted to open the window to get some air, but when I touched the glass, I retracted my hand. I saw the cat on the window sill. It was facing me from the side, with its eyes closed and its expression peaceful. I I could vaguely see the fluorescent light shining in the corners of her eyes. It was a teardrop, which had turned into amber and glowed dark yellow in the sunlight. Maybe it was reluctant to part with it? Or perhaps, it is worried about its child? I have no idea. The next day, the old cat disappeared. It slept in a small nest piled with firewood far away from home and closed its eyes forever. I heard this from the old man who bundled firewood in the neighboring village. He told me that there was a piece of stuff stuck to the corner of the cat's eye, which was sticky and stained with a bit of dust... I remembered again how quiet it looked under the eaves. I saw that it was about to die and thought it was unlucky...

< p>I came to my aunt's house again during the winter vacation. The kittens have grown up, but I thought of the old cat and everything about it. Human hearts and animal hearts are different after all. Maybe the word mature is more suitable for those who are treated as toys. Animals, humans, please protect animals! Perhaps this is the only thing we can do for them.