I Met A Kitten On Its Last Legs

I’d just parked my bike after coming home from gym, when I heard a faint meowing.

I tried to locate the owner of this sound. A lot of cars were parked around on the road, so it took me a while to look under each one.

The meowing continued, infrequent and faint, but I was still not sure where it was coming from. Suddenly a small body appeared in between two cars. I would have almost dismissed it as a rag, had it not moved.

The kitten looked badly mangled. It was just about standing on its feet which were bent at awkward places. Fur sparsely covered the tiny body, growing in grey tufts.

There was a sign of an old wound on its torso and it seemed to be in a lot of pain. I could barely hear the mewling. It seemed, the Kitten was on its last legs.

Poor sod, I thought, if the stray dogs don’t get him, the crows will. I looked around for something to wrap him in till I could reach home.

The kitten settled itself under one of the cars, and began rolling his tongue over the non existent whiskers. Then he proceeded to groom himself like cats do. For someone in such a bad shape, it definitely cared enough to get clean.

In between licking himself all over, the kitten would let out a whimper. But it did not rest till every inch was covered.

The grooming over, it finally laid down, tired and spent. The act of laying itself was an achievement, for the pain was too much. After settling down, there was a content look on the scrappy face. But it was pitiful, I was not sure it would ever get up again.

Quickly grabbing a napkin, I gently picked up and wrapped the kitten in it.

It was so weak with the effort that it did not struggle at all. I took it straight to the vet.

Today the grey fur ball is in his forever home, watching people and other animals from it perch in the window. Surrounded by loving humans, he spends his days getting pets, and treats. And in returning disdainful looks that only cats can. Every time I meet him, I am amazed with how far he has come.

I still remember the day I heard the weak cry for the first time. In that moment, it was immensely admirable how the kitten conducted itself.

Grooming itself even when the end was near with the fervent hope that it would get another chance. Meowing but not begging to be saved. Dignified in its shabby appearance.

Even when others had given up on him, this tiny kitten refused to give up on himself.