31/03/2025
I walked into the cat sanctuary with no intentions of adopting, still healing from the loss of my last cat. The place was filled with peaceful cats, but none caught my attention—until I saw him.
A scruffy tabby with a crooked ear and sad eyes, sitting alone. When I reached out to him, he didn’t respond, but when my hand brushed his fur, he leaned in, pressing his cheek to my palm.
The volunteer told me his name was Oliver, and that he’d been there the longest, overlooked by everyone. Something inside me clicked.
I wasn’t leaving without him.
The paperwork was a blur, and that night, as Oliver curled up beside me, I realized I hadn’t just adopted a cat. I’d found my missing piece. And maybe, he’d found his too.
