23/11/2025
Well said....they can teach us so much about how to be better people
I never imagined the day would end like this. I was just walking home, a bit tired, a bit stressed, when I saw that little ginger ball curled up against a wall. At first, I thought it was just another stray cat among so many others…
But as I got closer, I understood.
His eyes stopped me cold.
Heavy, tired, resigned.
Not the look of an animal who has lived outside all his life — but the look of someone who has lost everything.
His paws were bloody, worn down as if he had walked miles searching for a safe place to rest. A silent pain, a wound that no longer screamed. And somehow, that silence hurt even more.
When I tried calling him, he didn’t move forward, didn’t meow. He just stared at me, as if trying to figure out whether I was one more danger… or the hope he no longer dared to expect.
And then I saw it.
That broken little spark in his eyes — the one you only see in animals who were deliberately abandoned.
Not those who got lost.
Those who were dumped.
Those erased without a second thought.
I will never understand how some people can do that. How they can look at an animal — a living, feeling, loyal being who only wants a bit of warmth — and think, *“I’ll just leave him here, he’ll manage.”*
It’s absolute cowardice. Pure betrayal.
You don’t do that. Ever.
I picked him up in my arms. He didn’t resist. No aggression, no distrust. Just a deep exhaustion, as if he expected nothing from anyone anymore. His little body melted against mine, trembling, exhausted. That’s when I realized how cold he was. Not just on the outside — a cold that comes from the soul, the cold of abandonment.
Straight to the vet, without thinking twice.
In the car, he didn’t make a sound, barely moved, but from time to time he lifted his eyes toward me — as if checking that I wasn’t going to leave him on the side of the road.
That broke something inside me.
The exams confirmed what I feared: paws burned from cold or from walking too long on harsh ground, broken claws, a beginning infection… and that crushing fatigue that said everything about his life until now.
The vet treated him, wrapped his paws with those little green bandages that make him look so fragile, almost childlike. When they put them on, he let out a tiny sigh — a tiny breath that said everything: *finally, someone is taking care of me.*
And inside me, I was boiling.
How does anyone let it get this far?
How do you close the door behind you and leave your animal outside, curled up in a corner, hoping “someone else will take care of it”?
That’s not naïveté — that’s irresponsibility. Cruelty.
An animal is not something you abandon when it gets old, when it gets sick, when it costs money. It’s a life. A responsibility. A commitment.
Today, he’s home.
He’s discovering the warmth of a bed, the tenderness of a hand that doesn’t hurt, the comfort of a meal that arrives on time.
He’s learning that he can fall asleep without fear.
He’s learning that pain can fade.
And most importantly… he’s learning that he can trust again.
He’s still fragile, hesitant, a little wary at times.
But each day, he takes one more step on his little paw-pads wrapped in green.
He purrs softly.
He lets me approach him a little longer.
He’s healing.
He’s coming back to life.
I’m writing all this to say it loud and clear: abandonment is an act of cruelty, and every animal deserves better than a cold sidewalk or a cage no one opens anymore.
If you cannot commit, don’t adopt.
If you do adopt, love them — all the way.
This little ginger cat is no longer alone.
And despite everything he’s been through, he still finds the strength to reach out and touch my hand.
It’s unbelievable how some animals — even broken ones — have more courage and heart than many humans ever will.
