My granddaughter's cat, Smithy, was hit by a car right outside our house tonight. A kind old gentleman found him, still alive, and knocked on our door to tell us. We got him to the vet but his jaw was shattered, poor boy, so we made the decision to put him to sleep. Poor Blayze is heartbroken and his cat sister, Deegan, is wandering the house looking for him as they slept curled up together every night. I used to call him my little terrorist because he was always into everything. We'll miss him but I am so grateful to that elderly gentleman who saw a dying cat on the road and gave Smithy the chance to not die alone, but surrounded by people who loved him.