On a quiet, forgotten street at the edge of town, a small stray cat lay trapped in agony. Someone had cruelly discarded a glue trap meant for pests, and the innocent cat—hungry, curious, and desperate—had stepped onto it. Its tiny body was now stuck, twisted unnaturally, legs barely able to move. Every attempt to pull free only exhausted it more, the thick, sticky glue pulling at its fur and skin.
The worst part? It couldn’t even cry. Its throat was too dry. The pain was too much. It blinked slowly, eyes wide with terror, as the sun beat down and flies began to circle. It had fought for hours, maybe longer, clinging to life with every last bit of strength it had. But now, that strength was fading.
Just as the darkness began to take over, footsteps approached.
A girl—no older than twelve—spotted the motionless form on the sidewalk. Her eyes widened as she rushed over. “Oh no… oh no,” she whispered, kneeling beside the cat.
She saw the horror in its eyes—the silent scream, the plea for help—and without a second thought, she called for her mother. Together, they gently lifted the entire trap and placed it in a box. The girl stroked the cat’s head, whispering softly, “It’s okay now. I’ve got you.”
At the animal rescue center, trained hands carefully freed the cat from the glue, inch by inch, pain by pain. It didn’t struggle—it knew it was safe now. After hours of care and patience, the glue was gone, and though the cat was weak and shaken, its eyes were different now. They were no longer full of fear, but of fragile hope.
The girl returned the next day. The cat recognized her instantly and let out the softest, raspy meow—its first sound in days.
She smiled through tears. “You held on. I knew you would.”
An angel had arrived just in time.
