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UGLY ~ author Unknown


Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was.

Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world:
fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love.

The combination of these things combined with a life spent
outside had their effect on Ugly.

To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should
have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the
same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at
one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look
like he was always turning the corner.

His tail has long age been lost, leaving only the smallest stub,
which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a
dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his
head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time
someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction.

"That's one UGLY cat!!"

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw
rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to
come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.
Same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, 

getting soaked until you gave up and quit. 

If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky
body around feet in forgiveness.

Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing
frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their
love. If whoever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling
on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbors huskies. They
did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my
apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid.
By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's
sad life was almost at an end.

Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted
grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that
ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him
home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel
him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought. Then
I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear.

Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was
trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he
bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned
his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct
sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battle -
scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps
some compassion.

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving
creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch
me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way.
Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his
pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held
him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred,
deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means
to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly
taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand
books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that
I will always be thankful.

He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside,
and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and
deeply.
To give my total to those I cared for.

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked,
beautiful,

but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.

 

I am dedicating this page to a friend of mine who was part of the pet world, and his picture of his healthier days was being playful in the chicken coop. My best little furry buddy named Simba died in my arms on April 24, 2000 @ 4:24PM. We are not sure what he died from but he had lost so much weight he was so thin and frail, all the Pet hospital told us was all they could do for him is to put him asleep. A month and a few days later he was gone. I didn't think pet physicians were so cold hearted. I would have gladly paid for it ,but they said they have gotten burned so many times on people paying for their animals on payments They couldn't do it. I think of Simba and some of the cat antics and his cattitude he had but he was a special cat with his golden color fur and the Gold colored eyes. He meant something special to me as when a lot of times I would come in and he'd be on the foot of my bed all curled up. I could whisper his name, he would have this faint little meow but it was like he was talking back at me. I enjoyed him very much.

There is a saying, That if you don't like cats, you must've been a mouse in a previous life. I believe that! RIP Simba, we love you!  

 

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