Just a story:

When I was 7, we had a 15-year old cat, Mushroom. This cat had been an outdoor cat through some of the roughest sub zero, 4 feet of snow winters ever and he was a grizzly old son of a bitch. One day, my dad and I were pitching mushy tomatoes out of the garden, and when they splooshed on the ground, Mushroom would come flying out of the woods and jump on it, roll in it for a second, then run back into the woods. So me, in my infinite wisdom, timed one throw so he'd jump for it. He did, but he mis-timed it and it hit him mid-jump right in the face like in this pic. He ran off into the woods. He always would disappear for a few days, but he never came home and we found him dead in my neighbours wood pile where he used to nap and wait for us to come home a few days later. It had nothing to with getting a face full of tomato mush, but it took me a few weeks to not feel like shit.