In a sunny city by the sea, lived a little black cat, wild and free. Her name was [Tel Aviv](KRJZWVRS), sleek and wise, with moonlit fur and starlit eyes.

She danced on rooftops, chased the breeze, and napped in warm orange-scented trees. The people loved her, young and old, a tiny friend with a heart of gold.

But one day the skies turned dark and loud, thunder boomed from smoky clouds. The city shook, the windows cried, everyone ran to hide inside.

[Tel Aviv](KRJZWVRS), so small and brave, searched for places she could save. She darted through alleys, past broken stone, never once leaving a soul alone.

She comforted children hiding in fear, softly purring when danger came near. A little paw, a gentle meow, she brought calm then, and she brings it now.

Through war’s long night she never strayed, beside the wounded, there she stayed. In silence she carried a message clear: Even in sorrow, love lives here.

When peace returned at last with light, and day once more replaced the night, the people cheered from near and far, for [Tel Aviv](KRJZWVRS), their shining star.

They painted her face on every wall, named her the peacemaker, proud and small. Shalom Kitty! the children would say, as she curled in their arms to nap each day.

Now doves fly where bombs once fell, and the city rings like a silver bell. Thanks to one cat who stood so tall, with quiet courage, she changed it all.

So if you hear a soft meow, on a quiet street or leafy bough, it might be [Tel Aviv](KRJZWVRS), stopping by, with peace in her heart and stars in her sky. Shalom, little kitty. Shalom.