What to do when there’s nothing left to do.

When there’s nothing left to say,

When there’s nothing left to do,

When there is no hope left……

I see a small curled figure, alone in the grey wind-blown morning. A small cat, four floors below, still, in the gutter of the car park, just ears move occasionally. As the rubbish blows around this solitary, sad figure, it remains, huddled into itself. Something is wrong.

Straight down, barely awake, the early morning chill blowing, I climb through the steel fence and bend to the lone figure. Shaking and shivering, her head turns at my presence and she finds the energy for one tiny,weak cry, nose and mouth red with blood .She tries to drag herself on to my knee but her back legs dont work; she pulls herself on to my leg and tries to hide under my jacket. Her small body clings to me with all she has left, her shaking pulses through my flesh. The wind bites and we sit together on the cold,hard concrete; she will not let go, she can’t move properly but manages to hold on, her whole body and soul pleading…don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. I take off my thick jacket and gently,softly, lift her into it, her front white paws stained pink with the blood from her injured face. Wrapped up snug, she closes her eyes immediately, I cradle her and she drifts into sleep, warm and able to let go. I carry her carefully inside and hold her as she sleeps.

What do you do when there is nothing left to do? Do the only thing that matters, the thing that takes no thought, no decision, is beyond all the other trauma, help a suffering animal. It’s that simple, that important, everything else is forgotten in those moments of need.

When you have nothing left, when everything has gone to hell, when you have lost everything, if you care, you still care. When there is nothing left to fear and nothing left to lose, you react to this despite it all. It is a constant, it doesn’t change, nothing affects it, it is beyond it, bigger than all of it. It is so strong nothing touches it. A call to action, a call from the heart. As the silent, curled figure communicates in the grey dawn, even as she hunkers down in despair, she stirs my soul, she is all that matters, she has the power to reach me and connect me with the one thing that is untainted, the one eternal truth, of compassion for animals.

Dedicated to Ella, a beautiful, little angel.



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  1. And you’ve the power in words crafted with such emotional precision as to stir my soul for this sweet Ella. Thank you.

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