Recently I was thinking a lot about how lucky my cat is. But luck is the strange thing, right?
He is a young 3 year old maine coon cat who is living in a safe place.
He has unrestricted and unlimited amount of food every day.
He gets some delicious snacks and wet food almost every day.
He eats raw chicken and beef, some squel eggs and sour cream.
He plays every day, two times a day: at morning and at the evening.
And the most important thing, he gets dozens of love every minute someone at home see him.
He smells good, his coat is fluffy and shining, he gets bath every month with a very expensive shampoo.
He get kisses at his nose approximately 1000 times a day, and he is called "good boy" even when he acts naughty.
But...
He is lucky, isn't he?
But... what about all that stray baby cats living outside in that cruel and lonely world?
Who struggles every day to find some tiny bits of food?
Who has never received kisses and hugs, but only some "shhhs" and maybe violence?
What about them?
Why they are so UN-lucky?
Do they deserve all that good life my lucky cat has?
The winter season is coming...How much poor baby cats will world lose during that time...
