Anything related to animals, in one place.

During one of my missions of feeding stray animals — caring for the ones who get ignored every single day and live under the extreme condition of just trying to survive — I met him. Kalia. A soul counting his last breaths on a piece of garbage land. His skeletal, wounded body shook my soul.

I didn't give up on him. I put food and water near him, and he crawled — barely — out of the pile of waste to eat and drink. This went on for a week. And then the miracle happened. He stood up. He took his first walk off that garbage and onto clean ground.

Believe it or not, he walked all the way to the gate of my house and sat there — as if he had always been watching, as if he knew exactly where I came from and where I went. He waited for me to come out. So I did. I brought him food and water.

From that day he guarded my house. But he wouldn't let me touch him — not even a stroke. It took me almost six months before he let me pet him a little, on his forehead, and only for a few milliseconds at a time. I never gave up. How could I? He was my next milestone — my proof to the world that love is all you need.

“Love is all you need to live happily ever after.”

Little did I know our happiness would be short-lived.

On 12th February 2023, one of my neighbours struck Kalia on the head three times — just because he had barked at them when they approached my gate with their own pet dog. The blows knocked one of his eyes out of the socket. He screamed in pain, cried, and then passed out.

I was shattered. As if I had lost the one I loved the most. I cried all night. I didn't leave his side until he regained a little consciousness. I helped him stand, got some food into him, gave him whatever medications I knew to ease the pain. Then I got him admitted to an NGO, where he stayed for almost two years. He went permanently blind. I never missed a day visiting him — making sure he felt safe and out of pain.

And somewhere across those two years I realised something that hasn't let me go since: how many of these voiceless lives are hurt or dying right now — quietly, every day — and the people who would have helped them never get to know. There is a gap in the animal world. Not of kindness; of communication. Volunteers want to help. Rescuers want to help. Vets want to help. But there is no one place where all of them and the animal that needs them meet.

That is how Faunato started. A community for the ones who believe, truly and dedicatedly, that the voiceless deserve the same chance as the rest of us — and the tools to actually show up for them.

In memory of Kalia — whose stubborn, guarded, impossibly loyal heart is written into every line of this platform.