The evening sun had barely dipped below the horizon when Zlata, a gentle young cat with soft gray fur, heard faint cries coming from the bushes near the fence. At first, she tilted her head, unsure if it was just the wind playing tricks on her ears. But then came another tiny, desperate meow—a voice so fragile it tugged at her heart.
Curious and concerned, Zlata padded over. There, trembling among the leaves, was a small ginger kitten, his fur matted and his eyes wide with fear. He looked up at her with hope in his little face, stumbling forward on wobbly paws as if he had finally found the one he’d been searching for. Without hesitation, he pressed his tiny head against Zlata’s chest, purring softly, pleading with her in the only way he knew how: “Be my mom.”
Zlata’s heart swelled. She bent down, licking the kitten’s ears to comfort him. But soon, reality hit her—she had no milk to give. She wasn’t a mother cat. No matter how much she wanted to care for him, she couldn’t provide the nourishment his fragile body needed. Her eyes grew sad as she nuzzled him closer, unsure how to explain that love alone might not be enough.
Still, Zlata refused to abandon him. She curled her body around the shivering ginger baby, offering warmth and protection through the night. Her steady purr reassured him, letting him drift into a rare, peaceful sleep.
By morning, Zlata guided the kitten to the humans who cared for her. She meowed insistently at the door until they opened it, surprised to see her with the tiny orphan tucked safely against her fur. The humans understood immediately. While Zlata couldn’t provide milk, she had given the kitten something equally vital—comfort, love, and a chance at survival.
From that day forward, the ginger kitten never felt alone again. Though Zlata wasn’t his mother by nature, in his little heart she was everything a mom should be.
