Well this is what happened: this young fellow from one of the car rental places in Katapola, the one at the edge of the village, as you face the open sea, saw me wandering about without anything to eat and took me to his office. Then he went out and bought some can food. I thought I was in heaven. I had not seen so much food in months, actually weeks (I am a very young cat) and ate it all up if there was no tomorrow. After a while, though, I began to feel the effect of my binge.
I won't tell you the kind of pain and the scare it gave. I think it's worse than a tooth ache, though I haven't had any so far, and I should not be making comparisons. Clearly it was the wrong kind of food, except that my savior had no clue. He thought cat food was cat food and that was it. It goes to show that educational programs (and the right kind of food) are urgently needed. But I was lucky, in the end. The Vet came by and gave me a shot that put an end to my misery.
And I heard that AZI is raising funds to buy the kind of food it takes to feed me and the other kittens who might run the risk of being done in by the very people who intend to save us.