Her name was Lola

I found her in the street a week ago. She was frail, ill, dirty, very skinny seeking her mother that left her struggling by herself. I couldn't help seeing her without doing anything, so I adopted her. Maybe she wasn't the prettiest. She was so young. She didn't even know how to eat, she was barely walking. She was sneezing all the time. I thought that she was healing from her illness through the days. Playing all the time. However, yesterday, at around 9:30 pm, she died. She used her last reserve of energy to reach her litter and to choose dying there in peace. Back to the origins, to the roots. To where we all were and will return someday. Maybe it was my fault, maybe she would have been able to survive her illness without my intervention, in the streets, where she belongs, or maybe I prolonged her ephemeral life of less than a month. One thing is sure, I will always remember you Lola, my beloved kitten.