Imagine you’re a kitten living in war-torn Syria. You’re cold and hungry. It’s been days since you’ve had a mouse or a bowl of milk. Then, one morning, you’re approached by a bearded man in body armor. He beckons you. “Come,” he says. So you go. Maybe he has food. You crawl into the man’s arms and someone snaps a photo. Three years later, your image appears in the glossy pages of Dabiq, a periodical magazine produced by the Islamic State to recruit Westerners into its ranks. Congratulations. You’ve just become the whiskered face of global jihad.