Once, when I was young, I was visiting relatives in Chile. While playing in a sunny courtyard I heard a mew. My playmates did not hear what I heard and told me I was imagining things. Still, that desperate mew carried on and troubled my heart. I could hear it coming from the rooftop, in the corners, all around. At last I could not take it and cried for my mother to come and pay attention. When she arrived in the courtyard, we discovered that the mew was coming from the corners of the eavestrough, but it originated in a storm drain in the centre of the yard. Our relatives helped us to remove the iron grate, and beneath it... we saw the kitten, clinging to the edge of a pipe. It had been flushed into the sewer system, miraculously survived, and found its way to this opening. When I returned home I knew that there were days and weeks of events to recall, but all I could say to my friends was, "I saved a kitten!". We received a call a few days later: with a full recovery, the kitten was doing well.
