Today was Kaity the cat’s birthday, but he felt nothing but a profound sadness. The sun warmed his scruffy fur as he lay curled in a forgotten corner of the park, a stark contrast to the chill in his heart. It was a day for celebration, a day he imagined other cats spent being pampered with treats and gentle strokes. But Kaity was a stray, and the world, it seemed, had little regard for a creature like him.
He watched children chase pigeons, their laughter echoing through the trees. He saw people walking their leashed, well-fed pets, occasionally stopping to offer a kind word or a scratch behind the ears. No one looked his way, no one offered a crumb, let alone a birthday wish. To them, he was just another shadow flitting through the periphery, an inconvenience if anything. His whiskers drooped, and his usually bright green eyes were dull with despair. It wasn’t just the hunger in his belly that gnawed at him; it was the hunger for connection, for a moment of recognition that he, too, was a living, feeling being worthy of kindness. Kaity closed his eyes, wishing, for just a moment, that someone would see past his matted fur and acknowledge that even a stray cat could have a birthday, and a heart that longed to be noticed.
