The kitten trembled in the cardboard box, its tiny body curled tight. I found it alone, abandoned, mewling softly under a gray sky.
I carried it home, unsure. Daxi, my old tabby, bounded over, eyes wide. Her tail flicked with something like joy.
I thought she’d only sniff the newcomer, but she pressed her nose close, whiskers twitching. The kitten didn’t flinch. It looked up, eyes big as moons, and followed her.
Daxi tried to nudge the kitten, her paw gentle but firm. I stopped her, afraid she’d be too rough. She meowed at me, sharp and insistent, like I’d misunderstood.
I set the kitten down. Daxi moved closer, slow, and the kitten trailed her, fearless. Under the sofa, they curled together, a quiet knot of fur. I watched, my heart soft.
The days grew full with small moments. The kitten, too young to tend itself, needed me to help it relieve. I fed it warmed goat’s milk from a bottle.
Daxi hovered, restless when it cried. She’d try to carry it off, her mouth gentle around its scruff. I’d coax her away with treats, her eyes never leaving the kitten.
A Mother’s Heart in an Old Cat
Daxi took to the kitten like it was her own. She had no milk, but she let it suckle anyway. Her chest grew sore, red, but she didn’t pull away. I dressed her in a tiny shirt to stop the kitten’s nursing.
She looked awkward, moving stiffly, but she stayed close. When I took the kitten to work, Daxi paced at home, checking corners where they’d napped together.
One evening, I saw her pant, her heart weak from age. She’d carried the kitten too long, her energy spent. I laid the kitten beside her, and it crawled onto me instead, sleeping against my chest.
Daxi watched, quiet, her eyes soft with something like trust.
The kitten grew stronger, bolder. I named her Tuantuan, round and full of life. She chased Daxi’s tail, scampered across the floor.
Daxi, patient, let her play, though her own steps slowed. They’d tumble together, then rest, Tuantuan’s tiny paws kneading Daxi’s side. I’d sit nearby, the house alive with their small sounds.
A Home Made Whole
Tuantuan learned to eat on her own, lapping milk with a clumsy tongue. She’d choke sometimes, eager, and I’d wipe her clean.
Daxi stayed near, watching, her gaze steady. One day, Tuantuan stole a bite of Daxi’s food. Daxi didn’t hiss. She just looked, her eyes warm, like she was proud.
By the twentieth day, Tuantuan was a whirlwind, leaping onto chairs, batting at my slippers. Daxi followed, slower now, her mother’s love softening. They’d wrestle, then sleep, Tuantuan sprawled across Daxi’s flank.
I’d laugh, watching Tuantuan’s antics, her tiny rebellions. She’d tip over the trash, chew my hair, then curl up beside me, purring.
The house felt different now. Lighter. Tuantuan brought chaos, but it was the kind that warmed the rooms. Daxi, once solitary, seemed younger, her eyes brighter.
They’d chase a laser pointer I bought, though Tuantuan preferred my chopsticks. When she tired, she’d flop beside Daxi, their breaths falling into rhythm.
Growing Up, Growing Close
Months passed. Tuantuan grew long-legged, bold. She’d pounce on Daxi, who’d swat back gently, their play a quiet dance.
At night, Tuantuan slept on my slippers, her warmth a small gift. Daxi, older now, moved less, but her eyes followed Tuantuan everywhere.
One day, Tuantuan’s paw caught on a chair. She didn’t cry out, just waited until I freed her. Then she scampered off, fearless, to climb another. Daxi watched, her gaze steady, like she knew Tuantuan could handle it.
I bought new food, mixed with chicken. Tuantuan ate greedily, crumbs on her whiskers. Daxi stole a bite, her old mischief sparking.
By six months, Tuantuan was part of us. She’d sit by me when I worked, quiet, her presence a soft weight. Daxi, her heart weaker, still followed her, still carried her sometimes, though Tuantuan was nearly her size.
They’d nap together, Tuantuan’s head tucked under Daxi’s chin. I’d watch them, my chest full, thinking of how a stray had made us whole.
The years stretched ahead, but these days felt timeless. Tuantuan’s energy, Daxi’s quiet love, the way they filled the house with life—it was enough.
I’d found a kitten, cold and alone, and it had found us. We were a family now, bound by small, unspoken things.
This story was inspired by a quiet, touching video you can watch here. If it moved you, feel free to support the original creator.