Piccolo

When we first saw him, we might have said how unlucky he had been from the moment he was born. We might have talked about the illnesses he has faced and the fight he has been putting up since he came into the world. We might have been afraid for him, felt sorry for him, cried for him. For the little one who struggled, who went through surgeries, who wasn’t healthy like other kittens. We saw the hard parts and the ugly parts.

But him…

He was racing around like a whirlwind from day one on his two legs, without even noticing that the other two weren’t helping. He played. He asked for cuddles. He made friends. He had his favourite people.

He fell asleep in our arms and had sweet dreams. He was – and still is – calm and happy.

And so, in the end, are we when we’re with him. We’re not angry, we’re not sad. We don’t see the hard parts, because he taught us not to. He taught us not to feel sorry, but to be happy with him. To live his days the way he does: carefree and fully present.

Piccolo is a great teacher. And how funny his name sounds, when he himself turned out to be so big and so remarkable. A great teacher, like most animals with special needs. Next to them we become better people. Next to them, we grow too.

For those who don’t remember, sweet Piccolo was found dragging his body when he was only a few weeks old. He was diagnosed with spina bifida, a rare congenital condition that also occurs in humans, in which the vertebrae don’t close and remain open. Later a small lump formed at the spot; it was removed and, thankfully, has not come back since. He has had surgery, but sadly his walking has not improved and will not improve.