Hello! I'm Emily.

Welcome to my blog. I pontificate on my observations of family, friends, and occasional fun travel.

Do Not Harm

Do Not Harm

“911 Dispatch. Please state name, location, and the nature of your emergency.”

“Hey, this is Emily Carter, Atlantic Beach Bridge. I’m cal-”

“Is this about the cat again?”

“Yes.”

“An officer has been alerted to your feline situation. Other emergency calls are taking priority. Someone will be there shortly.”

“It’s just that there’s traffic, and-”

“Yes ma’am, I understand. Someone will be there shortly.”

“Okay, thank you so mu-”

Click.

Sigh.

The Atlantic Beach Bridge is three quarters of a mile long. I have this knowledge because in addition to driving over it regularly, I travel it by foot several times a week with my crazy runner friends. Sometimes we do bridge repeats in the early morning hours, which means we sprint up and down the incline multiple times in a row. It’s about as much fun as a root canal, but the view is spectacular.

The bridge is an active work site for the North Carolina Department of Transportation. They are almost always blocking off lanes and leaving large dump style trucks for extended periods of time on the bridge. Sometimes in their transportation-y dramatic flair, there are bright lights alerting drivers to use caution, part of their ploy to be fascinating and mysterious. And it works – I’m not sure what they’re doing, but I rest easy knowing that the bridge’s safety is of top-notch rating with the thorough and constant maintenance and a projected end date of the distant never.

My dad worked for the NC DOT for over thirty years. He was a bridge inspector. Their yellow trucks, safety vests, and hard hats belong to my people, which is why I have already accessed the (unlocked) dump truck, popped the hood, located the frightened, bruised, scraped up kitty cat hunkered down in fear on top of the manifold and phoned the professionals. I started with animal control, but they aren’t on the clock yet at 7:20 AM which is why I rolled to 911. Twice.

So, we wait. My friend, Kathy, and me, outside the hood, scared kitty, under it – the dispatched officers in route post attending to other more pressing morning emergencies.

Just minutes earlier, with distance and speed on my running plan, I chugged up the bridge heading toward the beach. As I approached the top, I spotted Kathy on the opposing side crouched near the railing, trying to coax and comfort a small, dazed baby cat – not a kitten, but not a grown-up. Cars are zooming past. The positive news is that the four-lane bridge (as is custom,) has one lane coned off for work crews and there’s a dump truck nearby awaiting morning instructions and the arrival of its human counterparts. The cat, traumatized and untrusting, made a run for the truck, vanishing into its underbelly, choosing the flight and freeze forms of handling conflict.

Two Morehead City police cruisers arrive and park ahead of the truck. Kathy explains finding the cat and we reveal our detective work in locating out little suspect. (I leave out the deet of B&E of NC DOT heavy equipment transport.) The officers are patient and kind with us, intent on being helpful. We lift the hood and peer at the cat and she returns the greeting with a dubious glare. The police radio animal control, and an officer from that unit arrives equipped with the tools and skills needed for safe rescue. After multiple attempts, sweet girl is contained and on the way to the shelter for care.

***

Kathy has since adopted our little friend – aptly named Bridget. She’s got some miles to go before she’s restored to full health, and she’s had setbacks, movement forward and then reverse, but her odds are a lot more favorable than they were when Kathy first found her atop the bridge. A good thing is manifesting itself from a bad one because there are Kathies on our planet.

Yet the puzzle remains.

How did Bridget get there in the first place?

Cats are too intelligent to run bridge repeats, so strike that from the list.

It’s .375 miles of uphill pavement, over water, to get to the spot where Kathy found Bridget. Best case scenarios involve her accidentally falling from a car she was hiding under. Or maybe she was in the back of a truck and jumped. Not best-case scenarios involve her being thrown from a window, with the target being the water below. (The impact alone would have been deadly.) Worst scenarios point to the possibility that Bridget had siblings who weren’t as lucky in meeting a guardian cat angel who runs bridges, two animal loving police officers, and a persistent animal control professional who kept trying until she scored a rescue win.

While I’m grateful to be writing about all the good that happened and how this story shifted and ended, I’m not going to shy away from the beginning. It’s possible, even probable, that someone attempted to throw a defenseless cat (or cats,) off the Atlantic Beach Bridge. There are many emotions wrapped around even typing this sentence. People and the way they show up in the world and the behaviors they execute are complex and complicated. It’s often said that hurt people hurt people. How does that translate to animals? When do hurting cycles stop and who’s responsible for the halting?

It's a hard thought to ponder. I’m capable of impairing. I can use my smarts for less than positive outcomes. I can use my wit to get the best of situations or others. I can use my words to spark doubt and slow burn others’ confidence. I can use sarcasm to rip at hearts and minds. I don’t toss cats or animals from bridges, but I can’t throw stones too hard and loud at those who do if my own house has walls paneled in glass.

I’m theorizing what might happen if, as a daily commitment, I choose the intentional covenant of primum no nocere - first do no harm - be it physical, emotional, spiritual, intellectual. If I vow to let all that exists around me flourish, and concentrate on abstaining from causing wound or worry, then the only way my internal GPS can guide me is upward – creating sprawling space for the extensive doing of good.

Recovering Positive

Recovering Positive

Season and Purpose

Season and Purpose