That tiny stray kitten kept returning to my door like he had nowhere else to go.
I didn’t understand what he wanted at first, but the look in his eyes made my chest ache.
He wasn’t noisy or wild, just quiet and desperate, like he was asking for safety without knowing the words.
Day after day, he came back, and I started leaving little bits of food, even when I didn’t have much.
I watched him eat like it might be his last meal, and I felt helpless because I couldn’t explain to him that I was struggling too.
Then the worst truth came. He was sick. The vet said he needed to stay inside forever, and I realized how fragile his little life really was. 💔
