On a quiet street, a tiny kitten sat alone by the roadside. His eyes were closed, his fur matted and dirty, and he looked utterly pitiful. Despite the steady flow of people walking past, not a single soul stopped to help the helpless creature. I had never been particularly fond of cats and had never considered owning one, but the sight of this vulnerable little kitten stirred something deep within me.
I waited by the roadside for what felt like an eternity, hoping someone else would step in.
But as the hours passed and the kitten remained untouched, a growing sense of urgency compelled me to act. I couldn't bear the thought of him dying alone, so I made the decision to help him.
Approaching the kitten was daunting; I had never raised a pet before and was apprehensive about handling him. With a deep breath, I scooped him up and took him to a nearby hotel for temporary isolation.
I tried to offer him some water, but he lay unmoving on the ground. My heart sank as I feared he might not survive.
Desperate to save him, I searched for the nearest veterinary hospital. The examination revealed severe infections in his eyes and nose. The vet's prognosis was grim: the kitten was in poor condition, and his survival was uncertain. Medicines were prescribed, and I watched as he ate with surprising appetite, a small glimmer of hope.
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