It was the 1st of September. Late morning.
I was driving to the studio. I was half way there.
There is an apple orchard on the left, an abandoned house and one that is in construction.
I could see a black something in the middle of the road. Couldn't make out what it was at first, a puppy, a kitten or something unknown, perhaps... But whatever it was, it was in the middle of the road, in the middle of nowhere and drivers tend not to respect speed limits where no one is watching, so I started praying that I would get there before another car comes. I stopped the car. Again in the middle of the road. Jumped out. Took the kitten (because by this point I could see that the little black four legged something was a tiny kitten) and started looking around in search of a sign for where she came from. There was an elderly lady out in the garden of the house in construction, so I asked her if the kitty was hers', but she replied rudely that it wasn't.
Then I went in search for her mommy, but I couldn't find her either.
So I sat back into my car, smiled at my dog and my cat on the back seat, placed the tiny creature on my lap and drove to the studio. I knew at that very moment, that if I had left her there, she would have been run over by the time I headed home from the studio in the evening.
This is Kleopatra's story, the tiny black kitten, who sleeps soundly on my pillow as we speak.
Funny thing is, that I adopted Mazsola on 1 September, 2013. One year ago. And on that very day, a year later, Kleopatra appears. I don't really think we choose them. I would say it is the other way around...
A life is always a life. It is precious, regardless of whom it belongs to. And we should do everything that is our power to keep, preserve or save it...