Sacred Haven of Debauchery

Every resident of the apartment building where I lived knew how ugly Ugly was. The local cat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and, let's say, love. The combination of these things, plus living on the streets, left indelible marks on Ugly's body. For starters, he had only one eye, and the other was just a gaping hole. On the same side, he was also missing an ear, and his left leg had been broken at some point and healed at some incredible angle, giving the impression that the cat was always about to turn a corner. His tail had long been gone. Only a small stump remained, which twitched constantly.
If it weren't for the many sores and yellow scabs covering Ugly's head and even his shoulders, he could have been called a dark gray tabby cat. Anyone who looked at him even once had the same reaction: what an UGLY cat. All the children were strictly forbidden to touch him. Adults threw stones at him. They hosed him down when he tried to enter the house, or pinched his paw in the door to prevent him from leaving. Ugly always reacted in the same way. If he was hosed down, he would meekly get wet until his tormentors got bored.
If things were thrown at him, he would rub against their legs, as if apologizing. If he saw children, he would run to them and rub his head against their hands, meowing loudly, begging for affection. If someone did take him in their arms, he would immediately start sucking on the corner of their shirt or something else he could reach.
Once, Ugly tried to befriend the neighbor's dogs. In response, he was terribly bitten. From my window, I heard his cries and immediately rushed to help. When I reached him, Ugly was almost dead. He lay curled up in a ball. His back, legs, and hindquarters had completely lost their original shape. A sad life was coming to an end. A tear track crossed his forehead. As I carried him home, he gasped and choked. I carried him home, and I was most afraid of hurting him even more. And meanwhile, he was trying to suck on my ear. I held him close. He touched my hand with his head, his golden
eye turned to me, and I heard a purr. Even in such terrible pain, the cat was asking for one thing - a drop of affection! Perhaps a drop of compassion. And at that moment, I thought that I was dealing with the most loving creature of all that I had ever met in my life. The most loving and the most beautiful. He would never even try to bite or scratch me, or just leave. He just looked at me, confident that I would be able to ease his pain.
Ugly died in my arms before I could get home, and I sat for a long time, holding him on my lap. Later, I often thought about how one miserable cripple was able to change my ideas about what true purity of spirit, true and boundless love is. And that's exactly what it was. Ugly taught me more about compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or conversations. And I will always be grateful to him.
His body was disfigured, and my soul was traumatized. It was also my time to learn to love truly and deeply. To give everything to my neighbor without reservation. Most people want to be richer, more successful, to be loved and beautiful. And I will always strive for one thing - to be like Ugly...