I had a black kitten when I was growing up. I could not keep him inside (my father did not want another cat in the house) so as much as I did not like him outside, he was an outdoor cat. He was very well behaved and was always waiting outside of my window when I got up in the morning. He mostly stayed on the back patio and would sometimes bring me little dead presents like chipmunks and field mice.
My older (indoor) cat hated him with a passion. The few times that they interacted, he would groom the insides of her ears while she hissed angrily.
One day as the sun was setting I was sitting with him and watching as he chased a mouse.. right into the street. A pickup truck was approaching, which startled him.. he froze right in the middle of the road, and then tried to run back to me. The truck *swerved to hit him* and managed to crush one of his hind legs. He ran into the woods behind my house and I chased after him, but the sun was setting and as it grew darker it became harder to see. I never saw him again. Ever.
(This is one of the reasons that do not advocate outdoor cats.)
In short, he was a beautiful, well-mannered cat who met an untimely death. I don't have any pictures of him, you'll just have to trust my word on how handsome he was!