Cinnamon began to lose her fur, and would spend most of her days sitting in front of the window, soaking up the rays of the sun, letting the warmth soothe her suffering body.
They would leave toys for her piled up near her bed, hoping that she would play with them, and eventually much to their surprise, she did. She also slowly began to trust one of the people who worked there, Katy, the oldest volunteer at the foster care.
“Katy would spend hours with her, trying to get her to trust, but when being face to face with anyone, Cinnamon would remember how much people had betrayed her.”
The volunteers cared about her so much, and with time, the need to touch Cinnamon became ever more intense.