I am Kömür.
I’m as black as the coal for which I’m named, and my big eyes are a piercing
yellow. I’m a bit small for my age of 4 months, being a street cat; & I’m
thin. But I think fast on my feet, and I can run and hide from even the biggest
dogs.
A couple of
days ago, while running to hide in the gravevines, I slipped and fell from the 5 metre high garden wall, landing awkwardly on the street below. I crawled under a
nearby car to recover. When the car moved away, I was out in the open and found
I couldn’t stand. The curious dogs wanted to play with me; but I couldn’t run
away. I hurt so much! And I was
paralyzed with fear!
The lady
found me, hissing and yowling to save myself. She wrapped me in a cozy sweater
and took me to the vet, who said I was not broken and would probably be ok in a
day or two. I didn’t feel ok. I wasn’t broken on the outside; but my
insides felt broken. And I was so afraid! But the nice lady took me home and
got me a sandbox, a soft pillow, and some warm milk. I couldn’t drink the milk,
but I have been able to crawl to the window, where I can see outside and let
the morning sun warm me. But I am
growing very weak and still can’t eat anything.
Tonight, the
lady has brought me into the toasty warm studio, wrapped in my sweater and
nestled in my basket on my pillow, so I can be in company and be soothed by the
friendly voices of the other people. It feels nice. Another vet has come to see
me. He and the lady have fed me warm
milk in an eyedropper, but it’s hard for me to swallow, and I don’t think it is
helping, I’m glad to be warm, with someone stroking me. But my insides are
broken: I am dying.
W buried
Kömür in an abandoned walled garden later in the evening. He was with us for
only a couple of days of his short life. Even after such a short time, I find
myself missing his presence. During the night I remind myself that there is no
need to go check on him. The warm sweater is washed and ready for another
homeless visitor. Maybe the next one can stay longer.
