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~ Ugly The Tomcat ~
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 hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot 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.
Ugly would have been a dark grey tabby, striped type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, and even his shoulders.
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. Ugly always had the 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 your 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 you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor’s dogs. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. 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.
As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. It 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 battled 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, 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.
Sweet Jesus, I can hardly see to type and I don’t feel as if the tears will ever stop. I want to curl up and die right now.
I dont believe for a minute it is real, but I think the message is a great reminder, it is to me anyway.
Good one Shazza……….
:(I have a similar story HONEST !! .. about the trust an animal afforded me.
We had cheeky the cinnamon cokatiel, when the kids were we. he HATED me and would greet me with a series of hisses ! She used to lay eggs all the time, and to stop her brooding, Vets recommended we remove the eggs. So the rest of the cowards made ME the egg remover. Cheekster took great unbrage in this and would fly onto my head and try to kill me, pecking frantically at my hair like a bird possessed. she was a gallus,outgoing wee thing to everyone, i taught her to whistle and sing. but person to bird ? Man that fooker HATED me !
one night i noticed she was kinda quiet, and came to me.. no hisses or cokatiel swear words,just came to me. i put her down my cleavage as i recognized all was not well. her wee head nesting on me under a full length underskirt. She refused to come out and say hello to anyone,and would make a wee pathetic ” cheep” when the kids wanted to see her. i assumed heartbeat to heartbeat might somehow help. and i longed to hear the wee shyte hiss at me,,as per..
she died ! and my wee lass used to tell emotions on her and she swears to this day cheeky died smiling :) I know its only a wee bird, but she was part of the family and spoke in a broad Dundee accent and could rattle off swear words and songs, like an auld professional :) she is buried under the shed, that was later an aviary, which now lies dormant, as a reminder of days gone by.
rotting away waiting on more life. I always promise to take it down and make a herb garden.
the moral of this story ? none really. just that at the end of the day she knew i was okay, after all :) and trusted me after years of despising me :)
you cant beat the love of a pet x 8)
@rubyred wrote:
I have a similar story HONEST !! .. about the trust an animal afforded me.
We had cheeky the cinnamon cokatiel, when the kids were we. he HATED me and would greet me with a series of hisses ! She used to lay eggs all the time, and to stop her brooding, Vets recommended we remove the eggs. So the rest of the cowards made ME the egg remover. Cheekster took great unbrage in this and would fly onto my head and try to kill me, pecking frantically at my hair like a bird possessed. she was a gallus,outgoing wee thing to everyone, i taught her to whistle and sing. but person to bird ? Man that fooker HATED me !
one night i noticed she was kinda quiet, and came to me.. no hisses or cokatiel swear words,just came to me. i put her down my cleavage as i recognized all was not well. her wee head nesting on me under a full length underskirt. She refused to come out and say hello to anyone,and would make a wee pathetic ” cheep” when the kids wanted to see her. i assumed heartbeat to heartbeat might somehow help. and i longed to hear the wee shyte hiss at me,,as per..
she died ! and my wee lass used to tell emotions on her and she swears to this day cheeky died smiling :) I know its only a wee bird, but she was part of the family and spoke in a broad Dundee accent and could rattle off swear words and songs, like an auld professional :) she is buried under the shed, that was later an aviary, which now lies dormant, as a reminder of days gone by.
rotting away waiting on more life. I always promise to take it down and make a herb garden.
the moral of this story ? none really. just that at the end of the day she knew i was okay, after all :) and trusted me after years of despising me :)
Awwwwww Ruby, that’s so poignant. At least the wee souls died safe with her mammy.
daughter just asked what i type about on here.. pc in living room and i pop in and out when she is at loo or making supper. i let her read the above ,for old times sake and she wept like a bairn, then smiled in the memory. ..
she is away down road now, and you buggers are bedded it seems. ?
Lovely stories…..hope ya teef are better Shazz x
Yep! you got me welling up here..its only 820am Jeeez! :(
Good story though! :wink:
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