Hawk: The Biography of a Cat who learned how to fly
Part I
It was warm and cozy. The sun was setting beautifully on the last day of the year, and the sky was a bluish epiphany. The soft rustling of leaves echoed through the air as the wind swayed nearby trees, creating a rhythm that mirrored the peacefulness of Hawk’s arrival.
Hawk came into the world as a New Year’s gift that night—tiny and defenseless. The breeze brushed his fragile skin as his mother showered him with licks and sighs of affection. He felt safe.
Although we didn’t know what had happened to Hawk and his brothers before we met them, Hawk shared enough for us to imagine. He remembered wet grass clinging to his mother’s fur as she breathed deeply after playing outside. This serene memory could only have come from his early days with her—a sensorial fragment of his peaceful childhood. He was too young then to form concrete memories.
The first few days after Hawk’s birth were marked by a gentle rhythm of soft sounds and tender touches. The fluttering leaves, distant chirping of birds, and faint human voices carried by the breeze formed the backdrop of his tiny world. Hawk nestled close to his mother, soothed by her gentle purring. His tiny paws reached out to his brothers as they huddled together for warmth.
Paul, the quietest of the trio, often burrowed into their mother’s fur, finding solace in her steady presence. In contrast, Caramelo was bold and curious, always nudging Hawk to explore. His adventurous spirit led their small escapades in the home they knew. It was a time when the outside world felt distant, unable to intrude. Hawk had no reason to believe it ever would.
Hawk was introspective, while Caramelo was fearless—a kitten who would leap before looking, diving headfirst into whatever adventure awaited.
But, as with most fragile things, that peace was destined to shatter. Hawk couldn’t have known it then, but the world beyond their cozy haven was closing in.
One seemingly ordinary evening, the kittens sensed something was wrong. Hawk, just a few days old and barely able to see, felt the unease. Humans were running around, shouting, and fighting. Late that night, their world was upended as they were cruelly thrown into separate, cold, dirty bags.
The warm embrace of their mother was gone. Hawk cried out for Caramelo, but his brothers were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, he was alone. Inside the suffocating bag, Hawk’s tiny body trembled uncontrollably. His heartbeat quickened, each pulse a silent plea for the safety and love that had vanished.
Hawk was abandoned in the woods near some residential buildings. Petrified and desperate, he longed for his family. Deep inside, he also wished for a human who would care for him and his loved ones, though he didn’t yet know that was possible.
“Cats are little gifts God allows us to bring from nature into our homes.”
The bushes around Hawk were tall, and danger loomed. Gaviões** (hawks, the birds of prey) circled above, seeking their next meal. It was after 6 p.m., and running was all Hawk could do, though safety felt unattainable.
The gaviões persisted, and the moon offered no light that night. Hawk’s futile search for safety and warmth drained him. Exhausted, he staggered, numbed by fear and cold.
As the hours passed, darkness became the only thing he could chase.
* * “Gavião” is the Portuguese word for “hawk.” To distinguish our protagonist, Hawk the cat (who will later learn to metaphorically "fly"), from the birds of prey, we will refer to the latter as “gaviões” for the sake of this story.
Are you ready for Part II ? Hawks in the woods
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