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The Story of
Ugly
by: Wyandotte Animal Group <wag@heritage.com>
May 1999
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 gaping
hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has
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. His
tail has long been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would
constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray 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
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 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 neighbors 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 lay 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 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, or even
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.