I don’t even know how to start telling this story without bursting into tears. Every time I think of Dreca, it all comes flooding back. My concern over the tiny tortured kitten she once was, the struggle for her life, the extreme happiness for succeeding in helping her, and the pure joy of watching her grow into a beautiful, noble, big-hearted kitty. The intense fear I had for her safety when she insisted on going outside, followed by a total emotional breakdown, bitter taste of defeat, endless despair and overwhelming grief when I found her motionless, with a broken spine. All of the joy, all of the beauty, all of the love, all that she had inside, was destroyed in a heinous, senseless act of cruelty. In my heart she still lives on. Free, playful, sweet and loving, far away from mindless violence, malice and horror. My little angel is waiting for me, she’ll jump into my arms again one day and we shall never part. This is the story of my Dreca.
She appeared one summer evening, while I was living in Novi Sad – a tiny little kitten, very skinny, dirty, all beaten up, with bloody discharge from her injured eye. As soon as I picked her up, she went limp, totally relaxed. A long, sleepless night followed, passing by slowly, the hands of the clock were hardly moving and I was encouraging her with all my heart to endure until morning when she would be taken to the vet’s. And she did! My tiny sweetie was a fighter, even then, in such a terrible condition. We miraculously saved her eye, she was gaining weight, growing up and becoming beautiful, but only two months later we faced a new problem, every cat lovers’ nightmare - Dreca and five other kittens were diagnosed with panleukopenia. More visits to the vet, more treatments, more fear of facing another day. Five kittens pulled through, Dreca among them. It seemed that the biggest problems had been left behind. In the next few months, life was like a dream. All of the kitties grew up, new friendships were taking hold, affections were springing up and new adventures were coming one after another. A mild winter, good food, comfortable accommodation – what else could be wished for? Yet Dreca wanted to get to know the big world. She was persistently asking to go outside, drawn by unlimited space and all of those new things to discover. She thought that all people were good. Accustomed to my gentle touch, she seemed to have completely forgotten what she went through while she was living on the street. Or perhaps she thought nothing could happen? I guess I’ll never find out.
With a heavy heart, and a lot of trepidation, I let her go for a walk. I had some strange feelings of uneasiness and a foreboding of impending evil, but my baby girl's eyes were full of confidence that everything would be alright. So she went out and left me waiting. The hours were passing while my fear was growing. As soon as morning dawned I started looking for her. I found her in front of my building, motionless, with a broken spine. My beautiful, beloved white kitty was lying still on the pavement. Pure and innocent, full of love and trust, she was the ideal target for a monster who destroyed the dream and took her life.
Every kitty I have ever loved and lost has left a huge hole in my heart. Dreca broke it completely. I have never gotten over the loss. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it just help us overcome big tragedies and move forward. Yet whenever we stop for just a moment, it all comes back. And it hurts terribly, it hurts unbearably, it hurts like the first day.
Rest in peace, my little angel.
