Every day, I take a small bag of food and walk the same streets.
I already know where they usually wait.
Some come running.
Some stay at a distance.
Some pretend they don’t care — but never leave.

Stray animals have their own way of surviving.
They learn to be cautious.
They don’t trust easily.
And honestly, I understand them.

I don’t see myself as a rescuer.
I’m not saving the world.
I’m just doing something that feels necessary.

Sometimes it’s just food and water.
Sometimes it’s a quiet moment — sitting nearby, not touching, not rushing.
Just being present.

There are days when I’m tired, distracted, busy.
But I still go.
Because they wait.
And because consistency matters more than good intentions.

Feeding stray cats and dogs has taught me something simple:
care doesn’t need to be loud.
It doesn’t need recognition.
It just needs to be regular.

These animals don’t ask questions.
They don’t judge.
They respond to calm, patience, and respect.

And strangely, this daily habit grounds me.
It reminds me that kindness doesn’t have to be dramatic to be real.
Sometimes it’s just showing up — every day — and doing what you can.

That’s it.
No big story.
Just a small act that became important to me.