14/05/2026
Five years ago, a tiny bold kitten — the one the neighbor's kids called a baby tiger — wandered into our room one Ramadan night.
I woke up to what sounded like a motor running and a distinct smell in the air. Only to find little Smokey curled on my chest, kneading away, his fish-breath softly hitting my face, purring like he owned the place.
The next morning, he didn't want to leave.
Neither did we.
Years passed. We moved homes. His siblings found new families. But Smokey? He stayed. 🤍
36 in human years now — technically older than me — yet still my baby who seeks my warmth every single day.
I thought I kept him. But really, he chose us. That Ramadan night, and every night since.
My Smokey boy. Forever. 🐾
