I once had this dog Bogsie. When all human possibilities failed, I'll call him. He will sit in front of me and look at me with those silent, understanding eyes while I exhaust all my pains, tears, snot and all, without any candy-coat or caution. He will just stay there, look at me and listen. Not one bit did he make me feel stupid about anything I tried to tell him. He's gone now but I dedicated a small monument for him on top of my computer table.
This is what happens to a loner who cannot remember a time in her life when there was not any pet crawling around the house. Not until she got married.
I don't have any pets now. My husband convinced me that we cannot keep any pet inside the house. That is just sensible since our apartment only has a floor area of 65 square meters and a total lot of around 80sqm. That is why I figured I will keep cats outside the house.
So that should explain my act of bribery. It started this night when it wasn't possible for me to talk to anyone in one my most desperate loneliness. So in an attempt to earn a companion, I stooped before our open gate and bribed some scraggly stray cats with bread. There are three of them: a married couple composed of a black female and a white male with striped ears; and an orange, scabby-faced one. I'm grateful they are gracious enough to stay and listen to me. I knew these cats only stayed there for the food. If I attempt to touch them, they'd scurry away. And when they were waiting for my daily blessings, they were careful to stay outside our gate, even if I left it open. Challenged to earn their respect, I decided to feed them for 3 or 4 more days. Then came a kitten which so much looks like this dear cat I had in my former home, Kawkaw. He was the smallest but he was also the feistiest. He'll instantly scowl at me the moment I try to get near. I even got badly scratched by this kitten because I wouldn't let go of the food he was eating from my hand. Ungrateful furball.
After 2 weeks of feeding them outside our gate, the stray cats were still scared of me. But something delightful happened. In just a few days after we met, I discovered him dozing off under the shadow of our papaya tree, inside our yard, even if all the others would instead stay outside. I opened the door, he just looked. I stepped outside, he just looked. One step nearer,he got bored and went back napping. I sat beside him and rubbed his little head. He was a bit reluctant but he let me touch him anyhow. This small thing finally honored my efforts and knew better to trust a pet-hungry fellow. I stayed with him and he understood.
Why did I even bother to write this? Because that same day, after Junn and I got home from the grocery, we discovered the kitten died. He was lying there, his small body partly squashed by some stupid, careless driver. But apart from that, he was still my cat. I never cried for any pet the way I cried for him that night. I was only able to stop crying when I finally gave myself a closure. Thirty minutes later, I went out to that spot where he lay and gave him a last pat on the head.
This is in memory of that unnamed cat and our sweet, short-lived friendship.
October 7, 2005
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