When I was 15 years old, we…

When I was 15, my dad and I took the yard boys a kitten, which they almost tortured to death. Kitty came to us in poor condition: one of his eyes was burnt front paw broken. Nursed for almost a month, were fed with a spoon, were on hand. The kitten has grown. But to earn his trust, we could not. He was absolutely wild – was given on the hands, hissing, scratching, and always strive to escape. He never ate and never lay our eyes. His favorite place was the loft on the closet – where he spent almost all the time, not paying us attention. There he walked at night when we slept. And the toilet too. All he gave us to understand that our services are not needed. The went by. Thomas (as we it), still spent time in the cupboard and spent his days with enviable stability: slept, sometimes down to drink water. None of our family members could not proudly say that the cat loves him. There was a feeling that he hates us all. Thomas even ignored the natural instinct of reproduction that in 4 years he never succumbed to the “call of spring”. But with all this he never crapped in the corners and went to the designated place. However, only at night. To catch him at it we for 4 years could not. And then we have a sick dad: cancer of the esophagus. The chances of recovery were negligible – the gave my father less than 8 months. One of these days, when we had dinner with the whole family, Thomas decided to go into the kitchen. He just came, jumped up on the spare chair and sat beside me, sometimes squinting from the lamp on the table. We, frankly, did not pay attention to it, because our thoughts were only about my dad, who was in the and just couldn’t eat… Thomas stayed with us until the end, and then proudly walked away. But not on the mezzanine, as before, and to dad in bed. There he ran into his belly and lay down in the Royal pose. Mom whacked the cat with a towel and tried to drive away. But Thomas shrank back into the blanket and only hissed at all the punches. Awakened father calmed her down, asking them not to drive Thomas, because he suddenly felt better… Thomas the day was replaced by a mezzanine on the father’s bed. He hissed when he tried to drive away, and shook from side to side a broken tail. It took three months. Thomas was very thin and almost didn’t go there. All the time he spent with his father on the bed. Sometimes he would let himself be pet and even for the first time in my life purred. But not for long, for about ten seconds. And when the father once again was taken to the hospital, Thomas walked up to the front door and became drawl meow. We were surprised, because in five years he never cast a vote. Mom decided: “Well, finally nature !” And let him go outside. Thomas has not returned. But the father returned. With a diagnosis of “perfectly healthy”. Thomas is not with us for three years. Father says he took his disease. That may be so. But we all expect that our wild cat will come back…


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Anonymous only. My mom was diagnosed with HIV….

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Everyone, good day! I would like to hear…

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