Stray Cat Shot With a BB Gun Finally Finds Safe Arms

She appeared like a shadow.

She was tiny, quiet, and alone.

I was feeding stray cats each day.

I was also doing TNR work.

The alley smelled like old rain.

Some cats ran when I walked closer.

But this little girl stayed.

She watched me with hungry eyes.

I spoke softly every time.

I called her my sweet soul.

She ate fast, like food might vanish.

Then she started coming earlier.

Her small steps sounded like whispers.

I began to hope she trusted me.

I began to dream of safe arms.

One day she showed up different.

Her face looked hurt and swollen.

It was like a cut went straight across.

My heart dropped into my chest.

I tried not to scare her.

I offered food with shaking hands.

She blinked slowly and kept eating.

But I saw fear hiding in her body.

That night I could not sleep.

I kept seeing her hurt face.

I kept hearing the silence around her.

The next day I set a humane trap.

I waited with a heavy stomach.

She was smart and stayed away.

I spoke gently and stayed near.

Two long days passed like years.

Then she finally stepped inside.

The door closed with a soft sound.

My heart felt shattered and helpless.

I covered the trap with a towel.

She trembled like a leaf in wind.

Her tiny cries broke me apart.

I rushed her to the vet.

The clinic smelled like clean soap.

Bright lights made her look even smaller.

The vet lifted her with care.

Her body was only bones and fur.

Then the vet checked her eye.

It was not just a cut.

Her eyeball was pushed far back.

It looked shrunken and lost.

The vet’s face turned serious.

I felt sick with fear.

They said the eye could not be saved.

They said it caused her pain.

I held my breath and nodded.

They removed the eye to help her.

They sewed the socket closed.

She came out with stitches and silence.

I promised she would never be alone again.

I brought her home that same day.

She hid under a chair at first.

She stayed very still for hours.

I put soft blankets near her.

I left food and water nearby.

I sat on the floor and waited.

I did not reach for her.

I wanted her to choose safety.

The house felt quiet and warm.

Outside, the world still felt cruel.

Inside, I tried to make peace.

At night I heard small movements.

She was exploring when I slept.

In the morning she was closer.

She watched me from the doorway.

Her one good eye looked tired.

But it also looked curious.

Days turned into weeks slowly.

She began to sit near me.

When I spoke, her ears moved gently.

She looked like she wanted love but feared it.

I decided she was mine forever.

I signed the papers with tears.

I called her family right away.

She was only about six pounds.

Her legs were a little crooked too.

The vet said she was malnourished as a kitten.

It made my chest ache again.

How much pain had she lived through?

How many nights had she shivered alone?

I tried not to imagine it.

I focused on small wins.

She learned the sound of her name.

She learned the sound of a treat bag.

She learned that hands could be gentle.

She learned that beds were soft.

Then something changed again one afternoon.

She began coughing in a scary way.

It was not like a hairball.

It sounded deep and wrong.

I grabbed my keys with panic.

I rushed her back to the vet.

They took her for an x-ray.

I sat in the waiting room shaking.

The clock seemed to stop moving.

I stared at the floor the whole time.

I prayed for this little cat.

When the vet came back, he sighed.

He showed me the picture.

A BB pellet sat in her throat.

My stomach twisted with anger.

Someone had shot her.

Maybe more than once.

The vet said it likely hit her head.

That could be why she lost her eye.

I felt a hot tear run down.

She had been hurt for no reason.

She had been used like a target.

The vet also found she had asthma.

Her breathing was a struggle inside.

The pellet was in a risky spot.

They did not want to remove it.

They said it could harm her more.

I cried because her pain was so unfair.

I brought her home again carefully.

I watched her sleep like a guard.

Each breath mattered to me now.

We started her asthma care right away.

I learned her medicines and routines.

I learned the signs of a flare.

I learned to keep the air clean.

I kept her away from dust.

I kept her away from strong smells.

She slowly started feeling better.

Her cough eased little by little.

Her body began to relax again.

She started playing with a toy mouse.

She batted it like a kitten.

Sometimes she forgot she was hurt.

Sometimes she forgot she was once scared.

She began following me around the house.

She sat near my feet like a small shadow.

When I sat down, she came closer.

One day she touched my hand with her head.

It felt like a gift.

It felt like trust blooming.

Now years have passed since then.

She still has the pellet inside.

She still has asthma sometimes too.

But she is safe every single day.

She sleeps in warm blankets nightly.

She eats without fear now.

She purrs loud like a tiny engine.

She is gentle with everyone.

She is the sweetest thing ever.

And I look at her and feel blessed.

Because she found safe arms at last.