Sunday 7 January 5am A beautiful bond was created between Hope, the cat we rescued from the street, and our own little cat. But the term “little cat” does not apply any more because she has grown and looks huge compared with Hope. She became like a mother to him: she cleans him, they play together and sleep next to each other. When she sits, he looks at her tail, takes the ready position and then attacks. He loves to wrestle with her. Since the vet recommended we shouldn’t feed him a lot, we have been watching his food intake. We keep the lid of the dry food Tupperware box on so he can’t open it. I have noticed that our little cat would go there and move the lid away for him to eat. He is so small that his whole body gets inside the Tupperware. The good thing is, his health is much better; he even has hair on his legs, which he didn’t have before. The bad thing is, having this many cats is a huge burden we’re not sure we can handle, especially given that nearby areas are being asked to evacuate. The horror is for us to face the same fate. My sister and I have had to go through our stuff again and decide what to take in case we have to leave suddenly. Living in constant fear is a living hell. But the little cat is not the only one who has grown attached to Hope. We have, too. He loves skin-to-skin contact. For example, he would come to me and pick either my neck or the small space between the bottom of my trousers and the top of my socks where the skin is showing. He would hug that part and sleep for hours. Also, whenever I sat with my legs bent to one side, Hope would come and put his head over my knee and just look around and observe us. A very tough decision faces us that we have been trying to avoid: he needs another place, because we don’t have the capacity to take care of him. For a few days, I have been looking for someone to take him. We agreed to provide this person with the food, the required medicine and pocket money for any additional needs. Unfortunately, even the owners of cats wish someone would take theirs because of the harsh conditions we are going through. Finally, a friend of Ahmad tells me his cousin is willing to take Hope in. I tell him I need to visit and make sure that the place is suitable, and more importantly, that his cousin is a good person. It is not enough that he is willing to take care of Hope, I need to make sure he is a loving, caring guy. We agree to meet the next day. 10am On my way to see a friend, I notice two women and some children sitting on the pavement. It is no longer a surprise to see people in the street with no place to go. I feel terrible because they are homeless, and I wonder: aren’t we all homeless right now? Many people have evacuated for the third or fourth time and there is no space left for them to go. When I meet my friend, I tell him about the two women, and we go to see if we can help. They tell us they couldn’t even find a tent to stay in and they had no place to go. My friend decided to knock on the door of the nearest house. He talked to the owner and told him about the situation. After much discussion, the owner agreed to let them stay in the entrance leading to the house. I asked to talk to his wife to make sure there are women inside and the place is safe. She came, greeted us and said they would provide the space for the women. When the women heard that, they started crying. One of them said that she was relieved she would be able to breastfeed her son. My friend promised to try to find them a better place. 11pm Complete darkness. I have never understood those who sleep with the lights on. In the past, I would turn off all the lights to sleep. Now, I hate the darkness, because it intensifies the feeling of fear, uncertainty and despair. Hope is on my sister’s lap, sleeping. We can’t see each other. I was lying on the couch. I know how sad she is because we will leave him, but we both know this is the best for him. Out of nowhere, she starts talking to me. “When you go tomorrow to see the guy, ask him to take care of Hope.” “OK.” “Tell him that the food we will give him is enough for a whole month, we will bring him more after that.” “OK.” “Tell him that we love him, and the only reason we are letting him go is for his own good.” “Tell whom? The guy or Hope himself?” Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew she was crying. Monday 8 January 2pm After meeting Ahmad’s friend, we head to meet his cousin for “the interview” as he jokingly calls it. Ahmad’s friend has never had a pet in his life so he does not understand how important this meeting is for me. To be honest, it is not the act of giving Hope to another person that I find painful – in normal circumstances, we would have fostered him for a while and then found him a permanent home. It is the feeling of guilt. Am I leaving him alone? On our way, Ahmad’s friend sees two guys he met recently after they evacuated to his area. I discovered later that one of them comes from a very wealthy family. They owned a building that was levelled to the ground. They are laughing. The guy tells us the story: “So, all I have left – I mean had – were two pairs of trousers, two T-shirts, three pairs of underwear and three pairs of socks. I woke up this morning and could not find my clothes. I washed them last night and hung them out to dry. This morning, they were gone. After hours of searching, we reached the market, and I found out that someone had stolen my clothes and was selling them.” I told him: “Well, that is good, you got your clothes back.” “No, I did not,” he said, laughing. “The thief was a woman. So, when I wanted to go talk to her, my father stopped me, and he told me that this woman might be in a dire need to steal clothes and sell them. So we agreed to do something I never thought in my life I would do. I decided to buy my clothes back.” The other guy was laughing so hard I thought he would have a heart attack. “But guess what?” he says. “By the time we reached her, another man had bought most of the stuff. But I was able to buy something.” By now, the other guy was literally on the ground laughing. “I bought back my boxers. My used, worn boxer briefs. For twice their original price.” At that moment, I realised how unfunny the story was. How this guy and his friend who were laughing, were actually crying inside. I stopped smiling, looked at him and said: “I’m so sorry for your loss. It must have been very difficult for you to go through that.” They both went silent and he said: “Thank you for saying that.” 3pm We enter Ahmad’s cousin home. I feel relieved to see a big area and surrounding trees. This means that Hope will have a beautiful space. We sit on the chairs outside and they offer us tea. The cousin is one of the kindest people you could meet. He is 20 years old, and has three adorable cats himself. He was very nice, he asked about all the details related to Hope: health, food habits, etc. I thanked him for agreeing to take in a stray cat, but he was more than happy. He even refused to take any money for unexpected expenses, but I insisted. On our way out, he put his hand out to shake mine, but instead, I hugged him. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you very, very, very much.” I, a homeless person myself, displaced and not safe, was grateful that little Hope, had found a home.