Neko is a special cat that I will not forget. I did not own Neko nor ever did. I don't even believe that "Neko" was even her real name, it was just a name I had given her in the short time that I had known her. I first met her on my second day of painting an honduran school (which was part of my missionary trip to Honduras). I was going around feeding many of these animals amuck the streets and small honduran homes. The sight of these skinny, starving animals was horrible! That's when I came across these two tiny kittens. I saw two girls standing behind the fence, laughing at the pitiful kittens. My heart leaped out to the poor creatures as I made my way over there. They were mewing for food but the owner barely even had enough food for herself and her family so she just kicked them to the side. 



I couldn't stand it any longer! I called to the woman and started to point at the cat, calling out "gato", then I made a cradling motion with my arms. She nodded and then handed me both of the kittens, laughing, as if I were crazy to want to hold this pitiful things. One of them was orange and white and the other was orange, black, and white. My sister and I both cradled them in our arms and scratched them behind their ears. They were both so small and skinny! They could have easily sat on the palm of your hand. I felt like crying! I started to love these kittens as if they were my own! I even gave each of them their own personal names: the orange and white one I named Kyou (Key-o) and the orange, black, and white one I named Neko (Knee-a-ko). Soon I was sharing half of my sandwich with them. I did the same thing the next day as well as well as the next. But then on Wedseday it wasn't the same. I came back to the house and started to pet them and feed them (by now they came on their own) but Neko was acting strange. She kept on meowing. I kept on petting her and placing some food near her. She'd sniff the food and would seem to try to eat it but then she'd just look back up and start meowing again. Soon I had to go back to painting so I said my goodbyes and left. All day I was wondering why Neko wouldn't even take one bite of food. The next day I found out. 



I called out to the kittens and soon saw the fiesty Kyou. She came running toward me and started to gobble down her piece of food. But Neko was no where to be found. I called out for her again but once again she didn't come. Soon my spanish friend and translator, Allyhandra, came and I asked her to ask the woman where the other kitten had gone. They talked for a bit and the Ally looked over at me sadly and said, "She died this morning, they say she was very sick. ...I'm sorry." I was heartbroken but not shocked. I had known in the back of my mind that she was going to die soon. I tried not to cry in front of all the Honduran people who were watching me pet Kyou. When I left the tears started falling. I had known this kitten for only a short time but in that short time Neko had stolen my heart. I was in despair over the loss of my good friend but I was glad that I could have made her last days pleasant. I imagined her still there, purring in my lap as I scratched her neck and how she would try to take huge bites out of my sandwich with her tiny mouth. I was glad that she wouldn't have to suffer abuse or starvation anymore, but I still miss her very much. I know I'll always treasure those kittens for a long time to come. And I know from my experience I've come to love my black kitten, Midnite, even more then ever. And now, in conclusion, all I have to say is that I will never forget Neko or Kyou, and the way they found a place into my heart.