Two trembling kittens were pulled from their hiding place one summer night, even though the family rescuing them had sworn they would never adopt a cat again. The husband and son were firm: absolutely not. But the moment the kittens came home, that rule unraveled in an instant. Before long, the same voices saying “No cats!” were the ones completely enchanted.
It all began four years ago, on August 8, fittingly World Cat Day. That evening, the daughter of X (Twitter) user Simba and Nala stumbled upon a friend’s Instagram story.
The post was simple, almost frantic: There are two kittens here… Her friend had discovered them crying under the bed of a truck in a materials yard but couldn’t take them home because her own family had a dog. Unsure what to do, she turned to social media.
The daughter didn’t hesitate. “I’m going,” she said, already grabbing her things.
But their household had a hard rule: no more pets. Years earlier, the husband had lost a beloved dog, and the grief had etched something too deep to forget. He reminded them firmly that even if they rescued the kittens, they were not keeping them. They would find adopters, nothing more.
With a typhoon on the horizon, the mother and daughter couldn’t bear the thought of the kittens weathering the storm alone.
They picked up a cardboard box at a convenience store and drove half an hour to the site. When they crouched down and peeked into the shadows, two tiny faces stared back, Simba and Nala, only about four weeks old, hardly heavier than a handful of feathers.
They lured them with treats. Nala stepped forward quickly, curious and bold. Simba hung back, trembling. Only after gentle coaxing did he inch his way out. By the time they drove home, the sky was pitch-black. In the back seat, Nala kept clawing her way up the side of the box while Simba stayed quiet and watchful.
It was too late at night to do anything else, so they let the kittens rest in the box until morning. But “rest” wasn’t quite the word. Nala cried and scrambled, determined to escape, while Simba remained small and silent. The mother stayed awake, hovering nearby. “I couldn’t close the lid,” she said later. “It felt too cruel. And the more I watched their tiny bodies, the more I knew I couldn’t let them go.”
The next morning, her husband walked downstairs and nearly froze at the sight of two kittens sitting in the living room. His shock quickly turned to frustration. Their daughter had always been begging for a cat; he assumed she had smuggled these two home. The mother hurried to explain everything, the discovery, the storm, the rescue, and reassured him: “We’re just taking them to the vet. That’s all.”
At the clinic, the veterinarian examined them and said they looked surprisingly clean and well-nourished, as though their mother had been with them until recently. When they asked how to find adopters, the vet suggested contacting rescue groups, then paused, offering a softer thought: “If you’re able to… keeping them as part of your family would be the best outcome.”
By then, the decision was already made in the hearts of the mother and daughter.
On their way home, they stopped to buy everything two kittens might need. Eventually, the husband relented, and Simba and Nala officially became part of the family. Only later did the mother realize the date was World Cat Day. “It felt like a sign,” she said.
At first, her husband and son tried to draw boundaries. The kittens could stay, but only in the living room. Yet within days, those boundaries evaporated. They fell headfirst in love. Treats, toys, endless photos, videos… suddenly every phone in the house overflowed with Simba and Nala’s growing lives. Their home gradually shifted into a place that revolved around the cats, not the other way around.
The family made changes: removing hazards, installing barriers to prevent escapes, arranging their schedules so the cats were rarely alone. And in the midst of all this, they began learning more about rescue work, all the cats and dogs still waiting for homes. Meeting Simba and Nala had arrived at the perfect moment, right when their awareness, and compassion, were widening.
Now four years old, Simba and Nala have grown into their own distinct personalities: two beings shaped by the same world but walking through it in entirely different ways.
Simba is sweet but timid, the kind of cat who shadows you for reassurance. He eats with the enthusiasm of someone certain every meal is the best one yet, sometimes even finishing Nala’s portion. He teases her with the bratty charm of a younger brother. His tail curls into a little hook, a “lucky tail,” their mother says. “He carried so much happiness to us on that little curl.”
Nala, on the other hand, is a cool, adventurous girl with a quiet intensity. Toys don’t interest her much, but birds do. Whenever she spots one outside, she chatters excitedly at the window. She acts like the older sister, stepping aside for Simba, letting him rush ahead, watching over him with a gentle authority. The family often imagines she played that role long before their rescue.
Yet even Nala, composed and steady, has a softness she doesn’t show the rest of the world. When she settles into a lap or prepares to sleep, she kneads with her front paws, tiny rhythms of trust, of lingering kittenhood. “Seeing her do that melts me every time,” her mother said.
Simba and Nala, once huddled together in a desolate storage yard, now spend their days pressed warmly against each other in the safety of their home. Even with two beds available, they curl into one, choosing closeness over comfort. Their bond, and the family’s bond with them, has deepened into something steady and enduring.
When asked what she would say to them, their mother didn’t hesitate:
“Thank you for finding us. Thank you for becoming our children and growing up healthy. I hope your days are always full of joy, and I promise we’ll give you all the love we can. Stay with us for a long, long time. We love you.”