While walking my dog Simba late one rainy night, I saw a little kitten lying on the side of a road. It appeared lifeless. There was garbage all around. I walked on.
On the way back, I heard the faintest of meows. It was the same kitten. Back from the dead, cats do have nine lives after all! But it looked severely frail and sick. And oddly, it looked like it had two tails. Stepping closer, I realised that the second tail was actually a weirdly twisted hind leg.
We weren’t cat lovers at that time. In fact, we were somewhat cat averse. Till this date, I don’t know what compelled me to get that little kitty home.
It was really late at night. No pet clinics were open. We made a few frantic calls to few fellow pet lovers for advice on how to take care of a sick kitten. Ultimately we managed to nurse him back to health over the subsequent weeks. Friends even dropped over with fish broth to feed the little tyke.
We had no plans to adopt him, so we just referred to him as “Billi”. Over time, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to move out anytime soon, Billi became Bilawar.
As he grew older, he grew fatter, and was a sight to behold when he would run around on three legs, dragging his broken hind-leg behind him. That leg was broken at the hip, and by the time he recovered to health as a kitten, it was too late for a surgery.
Bilawar is how we all learned to love cats. And at one point, the love led us to having nine cats at home.