Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly
was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world:
fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love. The combination of these
things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start
with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping
hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has  appeared
to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural   angle,
making him look like he was always turning the corner.  His tail has long been
lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch.
  Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores
covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs.   Every
time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!!" All
the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed
him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in
the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you
turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up
and quit. If you threw  things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet
in forgiveness.   Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing
frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If
you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt,
earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the
neighbors huskies. They did not respond   kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled.
From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By
the time I got to where he was  laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was
almost at an end. Ugly lay in a  wet circle, his back legs and lower back
twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran
down his front.  As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him
wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him
terribly I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my
ear-Ugly, in  so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle
my ear.  I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his
head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the
distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred
cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

At
that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever
seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from
me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me
to relieve his pain.   Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat
and held him for a long time  afterwards, thinking about how one scarred,
deformed little stray could so alter my  opinion about what it means to have
true pureness of  spirit, to love so totally and truly.  Ugly taught me more
about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show
specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred
on the outside,  but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move
on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared
for.

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked,
beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.