Rain had washed the hillside just before dawn; and rain washed our hillside one more time just before the sunrise.
Upon the first ray of light our hopes rise; upon our first step, our latest rescue comes to mind.
Among many friends and new family, he curls on the heating pad; his face bunched on top of the other, as others’ on top of his.
It was a peaceful face, slumbered in comfort, warmth, acceptance. He knew he’s home.
It’s not as peaceful when we start making breakfast, for the twenty kittens aside of him and another seventy in the cattery, weaving to each other, mounting defense against the cold morning.
We had a long, loud meows and demanding head bumps we never knew.
It was him; it was our new boy. He walked by himself like a drunken man from his chosen spot, to the kitchen and made commotion, but we were all smiles because he stood upright regardless.
He eagerly scrambled for food and tried just as hard to quench his thirst, kill his hunger when a plate of freshly boiled ground chicken landed on the floor.
Alas, there was so much pain everytime he moved his jaw, there was no less of pain when he tried to chew.
Like the first moment he came into our kitchen, he looked up to us, and made just as much commotion.
He got warm broth and supplements; he got kitty milk and vitamins, he got head rub and pats and praises.
After a bowl full of recharge he walked back, still like a drunk, left and right to his pad, but he stand upright none the less. One of his eyes was opened.
Every one or two ours we will have our fire truck blasting on our ears, but we are all smiles because he is getting better.
By the afternoon he starts cleaning himself, though for the rest of the day he sleeps like a rock under the sun and the noon.
When we rode him to the vet, however, rain washed the hillside one more time, stronger than ever. With wind on its side, with thunder and lightning.
We hid alongside our motorcycle and waited for the darkness to pass; still a few minutes after it stopped, just a little while after we start riding, it came back and blew us away as fiercely as before.
We wanted him to be checked, but more than that we want him to recover. We don’t want him to be more sick. We weighed the danger if we continue to ride under the storm all the way to the other end of town, and decided to ride back home.
Our kitty ambulance vet, who comes over one more time, told us he is making a lot of progress; that he is no longer dehydrated, he is no longer in too much pain. She told us the antibiotics is working, and the food we mixed and blendered for him gives him strength and power on his way to healing.
We are given a new set of treatment for him, so that he can keep his record achievement.
We will give him a new try and ride him to the surgeon tomorrow, just to be sure.
We thank everyone who is rooting on us, and may all the trolls who took our boy’s struggle to promote prejudice and ignorance, reap what they sow.
We hope you will rise with us tomorrow. We hope you ride with us to deliver our boy into recovery.