The moment I saw her, my stomach tightened. She was the most heavily pregnant cat I’d ever encountered, her frail body barely supporting the weight of her swollen belly. Gently, I prepared her for the ultrasound, hoping to determine if her kittens were still viable. But as the image appeared on the screen, I recoiled in horror. “Oh my God,” I gasped, my voice shaking.
When I first saw her at the shelter, she looked absolutely terrified. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I swear I felt a connection. “Hey there, girl,” I whispered softly, hoping to calm her down. She seemed to understand, giving a small meow. The shelter worker came over, saying, “She was dropped off overnight, poor thing. No info on her at all.”
With all the gentleness I could muster, I lifted her into the examination room. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I murmured, stroking her fur to keep her calm. She let out a weak purr, which was a tad reassuring. “Let’s see what’s going on with you,” I said softly, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I needed to know what was happening with this poor cat.
The staff at the shelter told me she was left at their doorstep overnight. “No note, no nothing,” one of them remarked. “Just found her out there this morning.” It was hard to imagine who would just abandon her like that. There was no clue about her past or who might’ve cared for her. She truly seemed like a little mystery wrapped in fur.