I swear I’d call it quits. I am done with everything. It’s just getting harder and harder no matter what I tried, and that particular moment in life, it’s me against the world, and I was never so much convinced that nobody cares. By the way people were insulting me for what I do, by the way people demean me for doing what I believe, how I was belittled and cast out because I am different. By the way of their treatment, by the way they do things around me, I was never more convinced that I don’t worth anything more than my pennies, and I didn’t have any penny then.

Came a letter from a long time acquaintance, and its opening sentences are like thunder: ‘So now our story comes to a close. It is with extreme sadness that, when we shut off our lights tonight, they will not be turned back on tomorrow to the sounds of dogs barking or cats scratching doors. And, even though I feel a sense of personal failure that I could not keep the sanctuary going in perpetuity, I rejoice in the fact that Angel’s Rest saved over 500 animals that were facing euthanasia over our 12 years in existence.’

One more of my compatriots had sheathed her sword, and walked away from war.

I was the youngest of them all, those I know who fight (almost) single-handedly, saving hundreds of animals under constant ridicule, pressure, and deprivation; so I can truly understand how their age fast forwards in double speed. I know it first hand, how even the most youthful spring of energy can burn out so fast, how the confidence built around “You are not alone” notion goes back from dust to dust because every single second what we see is “I don’t care”. I know first hand how we almost always have to turn ourselves numb – only to receive more judgement from society – while our perceived lack of emotion did not mean we loved our animals any less. Releasing them from pain was all that mattered to us, no matter what the way – even death, ultimately – at the time and, subconsciously, self-preservation was what our mind and heart needed to keep on going.

When another chain of event went south for me that afternoon, left alone while everyone was busy entertaining themselves, I put down my phone, stood up, and walked to the hills. I know a cliff so remote and so high where I can disappear, and then the world will be a better place.

Just a few steps away from that edge in that quiet, green mountain, I walked past a small instant noodle box that cried just a wee bit.

I knew that cry. I knew it because I have been fighting for those cries over the past twelve years; but this time, I swear I’d call it quits.

But my hand somehow reached down to hold those four cold babies.

I know the world is an evil place, but evil wouldn’t go so far as to tear newborn kittens from their mother, and leave them in the quietest part of the mountain.

I looked up to the sky, with cloudy eyes filled with tears that has been running along the way.

I took the box in my arms, and looked at the clear blue sky below me. One of those friends who left the battle before me once said that I was the strongest among them all. They said I will stand far longer than they can ever be, and that my resolve is the purest they ever see.

Just a second before I passed the box, I was resolute to end this all and be done with life, and now it all crumbled at the face of one faint cry of discarded newborn kittens.

They were so tiny. They were so cold. They were so new to the world they haven’t even learned to suckle. We had to teach them to suck a cotton bud soaked with baby milk, and it took us two days until they learned that if they sucked, they live.

And my journey have not yet allowed to come to an end.


Published by

Josie And The Whiskers' Syndicate

The first and only cat refuge in Bandung (West Java - Indonesia) a capital breeder of a nation without animal welfare law. We care for Bandung's unwanted animals, operate a TNR as much as our budget allows, and continue to educate people about compassion to animals

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