Our story is probably not a new or unusual one for visitors to Oman. Before this I didn’t really contemplate how the other half of the animal kingdom lives. That was about to change in a very dramatic way.

My fiancée and I arrived from South Africa 6 months ago to start working as musical entertainers at one of the top 5-star hotels in Muscat. After several contracts in the UAE we were at first delighted at the laid-back feel of Oman, the friendly people and the beautiful scenery. We stay in the diplomatic area, surrounded by embassies, a quiet, green neighborhood.

We soon started noticing the scores of “dumpster cats”, wandering the streets and frequenting our housing complex. Everyone in Muscat is aware of this problem, but I doubt whether they have all really experienced what we have.
 
As fate would have it, on our very first Friday off, we reluctantly rescued a tiny two-week old kitten from beneath a car in front of the hotel. It had clearly been separated from its mother and was terrified and hungry. With great care and difficulty we managed to get him clean and after two full days he trusted us enough to have some milk and porridge from a syringe. We never intended to keep him, but upon investigation we realized that the odds of finding him a loving home were very slim. We called him Friday. As it turned out, Friday’s mother and his other four siblings showed up on our terrace. At first, she tried to get to him but upon smelling him, decided that he (being the smallest and weakest, the runt of the litter) was no longer her problem, but ours.

Friday was growing and healing. In his short life he had cat flu, ear mites, a tail broken in two places, his whiskers burnt off and a rheumy, infected eye. Weeks of veterinary care and patience paid off and he finally started catching up to his free roaming siblings and in time actually grew to twice their size!
 
Soon, the mother vanished. We no longer knew where the litter was until one kitten was run over. We spotted another at the dumpster where we occasionally left food. It had broken its leg and could not walk, then soon after, also vanished. For the remaining 3 months only two were left and we often thought about capturing them somehow. Our visits to the vet and the local shopping centers however, painted a bleak picture of how many cats (and dogs) were abandoned or looking for homes.

A few days ago, the female kitten of the twosome somehow sustained a horrible injury to one of her hind feet. We noticed her limp on the bloodied and swollen foot and tried in vain to capture her. Three days later, we saw her lying on our veranda, the foot as large as that of a small child, her body covered in lesions. Upon arrival at the vet, there was only one solution: euthanasia. We left her inside and stood on the curb, waiting for a cab. Less than ten minutes later, an assistant/janitor exited the clinic, carrying a black refuse bag. He passed us and about 5 meters away from us, unceremoniously and with a loud thud, tossed her into the dumpster. That was when we cried. We cried for the possible life she could have had, for the pain she suffered, for the anonymity and lack of dignity of her death, for the fact that she lived and died the same way: in a dumpster with garbage. Worthless, as if she never existed.

Now, only one of Friday's litter mates remains. An entire family wiped out in less than 6 months. They are not the only ones. Hundreds die on the streets each month, unwanted litters find their way into garbage bins. There is only a small group of volunteers (the recently formed Animal Rescue Centre of Oman) who are attempting a capture-neuter-release program, but rely on fundraising.

In 3 weeks, we leave Oman. Friday will go back to South Africa with us. We simply cannot trust that we'll find him a loving home here. We'd rather take on the expense of completing his rescue: one cat will tell the story of thousands of others.