Last week Saturday I found one of the stray cats that I feed being really sick.
She was all skin and bone and could hardly walk.
I decided to take her a vet hoping that she would get better soon. It turned out that she was dying and that there was nothing I could do for her excpet for an operation that I couldn't let her take because it was too expensive and also it was too risky.
I took her to my parent's house and my sister named her "Nana" as she was the seventh cat that we had took in, plus Nana(Seven) is a lucky number.
Last Saturday, on the seventh day since she came along, her heart stopped working.
I felt so powerless watching her dying. Maybe I should have put her down so she would have suffered less. But I don't know. I would like to believe that the last 7 days of her life was a little better than the rest.
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