The Parable of One Ugly Cat

Everyone in the block I lived in knew who ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved 3 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 1 eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He has also a missing ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at one unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail was long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark grey tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs.

Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!" All the children were warned not to touched 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 when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction.

I 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 his 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 pick him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day, Ugly shared his love with the neighbours huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment, I could hear his screams, and 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. Ugly laid down in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front.

As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I 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 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 tried to bite or scratch me, or struggle in any way.

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 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. Many people want to be richer, more successful, well-liked, or beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.

p.s: Pictures are taken last month at my BFF, Beverly's house (she got so many cute cats!)