luckily my cat survived some how. He actually is doing pretty well considering how brutal the attack was. A lot of people wonder why my cat is not kept in the house? The simple answer is because he refused to be kept inside. He was a rescue who had tasted the freedom of the outdoors, and had no intention of giving that up. From the day I got him he would constantly try to escape..There was no keeping him as an indoor only cat.
Luckily, My Cat Survived Somehow
Luckily, my cat survived — somehow. He’s actually doing pretty well, considering how brutal the attack was. I still can’t believe he made it through. The vet called him a little miracle, and honestly, that’s exactly what he is.
A lot of people have asked me the same question: “Why don’t you keep your cat inside?” The answer is simple — because he refuses to be kept inside. He’s not a house cat by nature; he’s a free spirit.
When I first rescued him, he had already known the taste of freedom. He’d lived on the streets for who knows how long, surviving on instinct and grit. The first few days after I brought him home, I tried everything to make him an indoor cat — new toys, cozy beds, treats by the window. But the moment I turned my back, he was at the door, scratching and meowing to get out.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love me; he just couldn’t stand to be caged. The outdoors was his kingdom — the trees, the grass, the wind brushing through his fur. Keeping him locked away would’ve been like trapping his soul.
So I learned to let go a little. I let him live the way he wanted, even though it scared me sometimes. I knew there were risks — cars, wild animals, the unknown — but I also knew he was happiest when he was free.
When the attack happened, my heart broke. Seeing him hurt was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. But he fought through it with the same strength that had kept him alive all those years on the streets. Every day he’s healing a bit more, growing stronger, reclaiming that wild spark in his eyes.
Now, when I watch him resting by the window or stretching in the sun, I realize something: freedom always comes with danger, but it also gives life its meaning. My cat may have scars now, but they’re the marks of survival — proof that he’s lived fully, on his own terms.
And maybe that’s a lesson for me, too.
