In general, I was an ardent opponent of any animals at home. I was 25 then. Young, I do not know the measure, so I return home drunk.
At some point, I either gained a large amplitude or tripped over something, but the reasons were not necessary: I quickly degraded from a vertical position to a horizontal one. I was lying there all handsome and imagining my wife sitting in the kitchen and choosing a more oversized, heavier rolling pin.
My thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a kitten meowing. When I looked down, I saw a tiny kitten walking toward me. It put its dirty paw on me and said its squeaky “Meow.”
It did not touch me in any way, but thoughts began to creep into my head. Brilliant ideas, as I thought then.
I had a plan in mind: I needed to escape my wife’s anger, and she needed the kitten. So, I took the kitten with me and brought it home.
But this little furball started to grow on me as time went on. It would greet me at the door after a long day at work, curl up next to me while I watched TV, and even comfort me during tough times.
I learned to appreciate the love and companionship that animals can bring, and I now consider myself a true animal lover. That little kitten taught me to see the good in all creatures, and I will be forever grateful.
My wife never scolded me for what happened that day, and the kitten was never seen on our street again. It still lives with us to this day. If I ever try to go out without her again, she immediately warns me that she doesn’t need the cat anymore – as though it’s a threat.
More than ten years have passed since then, and I’ve never returned to such a state again. That little kitten taught me an important lesson about love and responsibility. And for that, I will always be grateful.
