A Sad Cat Story
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, loving.

These three things, together with a life spent outside, had taken 
their toll 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 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 had long been 
lost, leaving only the smallest stub which he would constantly jerk 
and twitch.

Ugly would have been a dark gray, striped tabby except for the sores  
covering his head and neck. Even his shoulders were covered 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 your feet in 
forgiveness.

Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing 
frantically,bumping his head against their hands, begging for 
their love. If you everpicked him up, he would immediately begin 
suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly tried to be friendly to the neighbor's huskies. They did 
not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I 
could hear his screams, and I rushed to his aid. By the time I got 
to him, it was apparent that Ugly's sad life was almost at an end. 
Ugly lay in a wet puddle, his back legs and lower back twisted 
grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white stripe 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 I could feel him struggling. It must he 
hurting him terribly, I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, 
sucking sensation on my ear. 

Ugly, in so much pain and suffering, 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,
battle-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, 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, or 
beautiful. But for me? I will always try to be Ugly.