So I was walking home briskly from a late-night grocery run, when a cat crossed the street in front of me. I stopped and looked at it, immediately thinking of how to approach it and if that was possible, when I noticed it didn't look right.
Its tail was fluffy and distinctly-shaped, and its muzzle was pointed.
I watched it disappear into the brush, trying to process what I'd just seen. Then I bowed deeply in the direction it'd gone, and walked slowly past, glancing over my shoulder afterwards.
I'd read that there were foxes in town. I hadn't realized they were so skinny.
I spent half the walk home contrasting my comfortable life with theirs, and trying to think it there was any way I could help them. I briefly wished that I ate meat, so that I could've left something out as an offering, but I'm not sure that this would've been a good idea anyway.