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A Cat Called “Ugly”.

Everyone in the apartment block that I that 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 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 ago 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, blacking scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!"

All of the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him with water 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 his feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love and wanting to be strocked and made a fuss of. If you ever picked him up, he would immediately begin licking your face and start purring.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's two dogs. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled and injured. From my apartment I could hear his screams and howls, and I tired to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent that Ugly's sad life was almost at an end. Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the black 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. It 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, licking my face and purring.

I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then I could hear the distinct sound of purring again. 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 there and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray cat 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 like "Ugly" the cat.

Original author unknown.


Mother Theresa of Calcutta was walking along a road with her friend when they saw a very old lady lying on the pavement, dehydrated, clothes all torn, very thin, and she was covered in superficial injuries.

They gently picked her up and carefully carried her to the hospital attached to the convent. They lay her on a new soft mattress, propped up her head on a clean pillow and covered her frail body with a nice new clean black linen sheet. The old lady did not complain about the hard life she had lived, did not complain about the pangs of hunger she felt in her stomach, did not complain about her injuries, did not complain about her lack of clothes, and did not even complain that she was destitute with no home to live in.

She just looked Mother Theresa straight into her eyes and said "Thank you so very much". And with that last thought she closed her eyes and died. Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be like the old lady.





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