Life's end

Two days ago, that is, Tuesday, I went to look for the cats again. There was a bad traffic jam at the Bedok North Road exit of the PIE and I was delayed on the bus. By the time I got to the usual spot, it has darkened visibily. I scanned around but no signs of Calling nor Patchy. Neither did I see the newborn kittens. I did see the white tabby, though; she was just trotting around aimlessly.

As I stood there, looking around, one of the resident cats there - one with black and white patches - decided to turn friendly towards me and came walking over. I couldn't tell its gender due to the diminished light but I suspect it's a female. It was kinda plump, either due to genetics or the ability to eat more. Spotty - as I later learned of its name - was one of the few cats around there that intimidated Calling. When I used to feed Calling and Spotty came around, Calling will adopt a defensive stance and crouch between my feet, all the time keeping his eyes trained on Spotty. I guess they are pretty OK with each other when it doesn't come to food.

I squatted down by the pathway and observed Spotty grooming herself. Cats are really very particular about personal hygiene, aren't they? Very much like rabbits and me. Then out of the blue, I heard a voice calling out, "Spotty! Spotty!" and I looked to my left. There was a lady - in late 20s to mid 30s - standing at some 7 -8 metres away and she approached. From her attire, it was obvious she is a cubicle dweller who has just knocked off from work.

The lady looked at me and asked, "Are you the one who comes around here often to look for the cats? My maid told me about you." I was a little surprised and muttered, "Yeah..." By then Spotty had recognized her and was walking around her legs. It was kinda awkard to be speaking to someone who is standing, so I resumed standing and continued, "I don't really come here often. Only on some days la."

"My maid told me that you liked the cat a lot and you always come here to look for him," the lady said. I gave a sheepish smile but nothing quite came to my mind. The lady continued, "I am sorry to tell you that he has passed away." I blinked but I was not too shocked. Still, I asked, "What happened?"

"He feel ill some time ago. I took him home and nursed him. Fed him with antibiotics and glucose but his appetite got poorer. So I sent him to the hospital. They said it was a viral infection and there was a 50-50 chance of recovery. Then they said it was 30-70. I left him at the hospital when they put him on a drip. Then when he died, they didn't even tell me," the lady related the story, expressing much indignation at the last point. She then pointed to the tree where the grave was located and said, "Then my friend and I went to collect the body and buried him there, because we knew he liked to hang out around there." As I listened intently, my expression must have changed unconsciously, for she said apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

I managed a weak smile and replied, "It's OK, I guess. I kinda expected it. It's difficult for a cat to recover from a cold. There's another one who's sick too. A grey one." She nodded and went on, "Yes, I brought her home the other day too. But she seemed to have recovered." She looked around, as if searching for Brownie and I pointed to the carpark, "I saw her there just now, under a bike." The lady then made her way towards the direction I pointed and called out, "Linus". "Oh, so that's what she's called," I thought to myself and followed her.

The lady stroked Brownie and commented on how the fever had gone down. Then she condemned those who throw scraps for the cats. It turns out that Brownie had recovered but fell ill again after eating some leftovers. I agreed with her, for there are many people who leave scraps strewn all over the place. While they may have kind intentions at heart, the actions were certainly detrimental. As she was stroking Brownie, the lady asked, "Oh yes, What's your name?" "You can call me YC. What's yours?" "I'm May."

And so, with little time left for me to rush to my tuition, I had to leave. But not before I enquired about Patchy. Since she is the "patron goddess" of the cats there, May would have some inkling as to Patchy's whereabouts. May said, "A lot of people like her. A young man, like you, brought her from another block behind. But I hasn't seen her for quite awhile. I think maybe someone took her away." Oh well, I do hope Patchy lands in good hands and not being murdered.

Before I left, May asked, "Do you keep cats at home?" My reply was frank, "No." I guess it must have surprised her. I mean, for someone who doesn't keep cats at home but yet show concern for stray cats, now that's pretty uncommon. Then again, I think there are many out there who are like me, so perhaps my answer was just as expected as any answer.

And so, that's it. Calling is dead. May calls him "Chee Wah Boy", which is what was written on the tombstone. I was telling Dear that if Calling is really dead, then probably I won't be visiting the cats anymore. On hindsight, I think I'll continue to do so. In fact, today, I went back there again.

Somehow, I was hoping to see Calling, either hiding under a bush or sitting on a tree root. At the same time, I know I was hoping for the impossible. But I do hope that he has found relief from the suffering that he was going through. Rest in peace...















Here's a most recent photograph of Calling. It was taken 2 days before I first noticed that he was neutered. He often sharpens his claws on the exposed tree roots. In fact, most of the cats around that area does the same thing too.

Patchy

I went to the same spot to look for Calling today but there's no sign of him. Neither did I see Patchy. I did notice 2 new members to the cat community there, though. They are 2 kittens. They are terribly shy and scampered away to hide when someone walks near them. Their mom, a white tabby, is OK with human presence. Perhaps I'll bring food for the nursing mother the next time.

Oh yes, I noticed a freshly dug grave at the foot of a tree nearby. Embedded in the earth was a tombstone - a smooth, fist-sized stone that was covered with words. A few stalks of flowers were placed neatly near the tombstone. There were offerings too - a paper plate full of pet food, either dog or cat food, and a bowl of water. It appears that whatever is buried beneath deceased today, as per the writings on the tombstone. I've seen such graves fo pets before but actually leaving a tombstone and offerings, that's a definitely a first today.

Here are some pictures of Patchy, a lively tabbycat that is friendly and bold. I'd love to post the pictures now but it seems there are some problems with the image upload function of Blogger. Perhaps I shall try tomorrow.

UPDATE: Here are the pictures, now that the image upload problem has been fixed.















Yeah, yeah, I know. Not a very nice shot. But I swear it looked perfect when I was previewing it on the LCD display of the camera. Perhaps I was misguided by the bright LCD display.















Patchy drinking from the water left behind by the maid who feeds the cats daily.















Patchy's hostile takeover attempt to oust Calling from his position is a resounding success.















Calling and Patchy grooming themselves after a meal.

Here's a frontal shot. She got this evil-look in this picture, right? haha~ It's just in the eyes.

Calling falls ill

I went to visit Calling last Thursday. He seemed to be behaving oddly and appeared to be restless. He greeted me with his usual meows and walked around my calves but something seemed amiss. I couldn't really put my finger on it until I saw his back.

What used to be a furry patch below his anus had become a scarred, reddish slit. My first thought was that I had mistook Calling to be a tomcat when it is really a tabbycat. As it made its rounds around my legs, I took a closer look to the ears and my initial thought was immediately proven wrong. The left ear had its pointed tip lop off and a reddish line ran across the top of the ear. So, there it is - Calling is a tomcat that has been neutered recently. Well, that certainly explains a lot.

I proceeded to open up a pack of tuna Friskies and poured the contents on a piece of paper to feed him. Though that pack was meant for kittens, I noticed that Calling seemed to like it when I fed him last Monday, so I got the same one again. To my surprise, he gave the food a casual sniff and walked away. I put the food in front of him but he was not interested at all. Patchy, a female kitten that I'll feature here in time to come, trotted up to me and hastily gobbled the food down. Calling made no attempt to swat her away, like he usually does but just sat there watching her wolfing down the food meant for him.

Today, I went to visit Calling again. I scouted the area, searching for him and Patchy. As with other days, today was no different for it was Calling who found me instead. He emerged from a nearby drain with wet patches on his paws and body. "What are you doing in the drain? Just look at you," I said, half-amused at his less than pristine appearance. As he walked around my legs, he did something that shocked me - he sneezed.

I squatted down to get a better look at him and noticed that his nose appeared to be redder than usual. All of a sudden, he began sneezing for a few times consecutively. The intensity of the sneezes caused him to jerk his head at an unnatural angle and he had to open his jaws wide to draw in air. I witnessed such symptoms before but it was not in a cat; it was my pet rabbit that had passed on. Calling is now sick and I worry for him.

I brought mackerel for him today but again, he didn't eat. A cursory sniff and nod were his only responses. The food didn't go to waste, though, as another female stray, Brownie, was nearby and she finished the food. Calling was content to crouch by the grass, observing the surroundings. The only movement he made was when he had the occasional sneeze.

I stayed near Calling to comfort him, stroking his head and back. Many thoughts ran through my mind. Will he get well? Shall I bring him to the vet? If I bring him to the vet, can I spare the time and effort to nurse him back to health? Can he still adapt back to being a feral cat if I bring him home for extended periods to feed him medications and stuff? More importantly, is Calling going to die like my pet rabbit?

I felt really sad as I recalled the happier times, when he would run energetically to me as I approach and how lively he is when he got into the occasional skirmish with Patchy. All he could do now is to crouch there. It seems that Calling has aged 10 cat-years overnight. I related Calling's condition to Dear over the line and she surmised that Calling might has fallen ill due to complications after the neutering surgery. Among a myriad of factors, I think wound infection would be at the top of the list.

Dear also believed depression to be a main factor. As she put it bluntly, "How would you feel if someone drugged you and cut off your balls? You will feel it and know it, right? Calling will feel the same. And humans get sick more easily when they are depressed, so are cats." Dear is no expert on cat psychology but I have to agree with her on this. And yes, cat neutering is really worlds apart when compared to human sterilisation. More about cat neutering here.

I don't blame the person(s) who brought Calling for neutering. After all, that person(s) must have had Calling's well-being in mind. Besides, bringing a cat for neutering does not come free and I don't think anyone would actually be willing to fork out money to deliberately inflict pain on a cat. Furthermore, there are many neutered strays out there and they are all getting along fine. It's just life, I guess. We will all die someday; it's a matter of time. Still, I hope that Calling will recover and resume his usual self again.

Below are some pictures of that I took weeks/months ago, when Calling was in a much better state.















The first time I fed Calling. It was really heartening to see him, for he went missing for a fortnight. I thought he has been adopted or perished in some freak accident.















Taken on the same day as the one above. Calling rests by my foot after the meal. He hasn't done that for a long time but I don't mind.















Calling lazing around after a meal. This picture is taken a few weeks later than those at the top. There was this Indonesian maid who feeds the cats in that neighbourhood at around 8pm everyday. I spoke to her and she said it was her employer's idea. The employer must be a real cat lover; providing free meals to strays everyday is no easy feat.















Calling and Patchy squaring off. Patchy is the only cat that dares to sneak up and eat Calling's food. I seldom feed the other cats, so they don't quite dare to approach me. In fact, they sort of know that I favour Calling more and tend to hang around waiting for scraps that Calling left behind. Calling, notwithstanding his bigger size and being male, usually gives way to the relentless, feisty Patchy. Sometimes, Calling may throw a punch or two at Patchy before relinquishing the food to her. Then, he will look at me with those big, round cat eyes, as if trying to gain sympathy. To overcome this problem, I usually bring two packets of cat food. I'll open the second packet for Calling while Patchy is sufficiently distracted.

Calling

Let's kick things off with my favourite stray. I first noticed it crouching under a tree, meowing away incessantly. Curious, I went forward to take a look. It looked back at me and continued its meowings. So, I gave it a name, an apt one - Calling. As I did not bring my camera with me then, I went back to the same spot a week later to take a few shots at it.

The rain had just stopped that night and there he was, crouching by the footpath, observing the occasional jogger who ran past.

Calling is a friendly cat and walked around my legs the first time I encountered it. It seems almost instinctive for him to do that. Oh yeah, I thought he was a "she" until I took a closer look at the stuff between his hind legs.















A close-up picture. Note his ears are still pointed, i.e. he is not neutered yet.

Calling was chasing after my feet and I had jumped over a puddle of water to shake off his advances. To my surprise, he padded gingerly across the puddle and sat between my feet. Isn't that sweet?

Come to think of it, I have more of Calling's pictures than any other cats. Perhaps I should rename this blog, ya? Nah, he steals the show but the show anin't his.

Humble beginnings

I've been wanting to setup a blog to document stray cats that I encounter. And I finally got down to it on 11th Aug 2006, roughly some 22 days ago. The reasons why I hogged this domain name for 22 days without posting a single post can be attributed to the start of a new semester, a sudden food poisoning incident and more importantly, you should have guessed it by now. Yes, sloth.

Anyway, I had wanted to name this Small Cat Diary. There is this wildlife documentary named Big Cats Diary where the researchers studied big cats. Since I'm focusing on small cats, I thought the blog should be named aptly so. Alas, the domain name has been occupied and the next best alternative is this. Kudos to Dear, who helped me to come up with the name.

Below is the exact transcript of our MSN conversation, completely unedited for typos and in its unadulterated form:

hg: ARGH!!!!!!!!!!1
hg: http://smallcatdiary.blogspot.com/ is taken liao.... *grumble grumble*
Qing: oh!
Qing: hah
Qing: wad abt smallcatjournal
Qing: orh....
Qing: kittensdiary
Qing: or....
Qing: kittyland
Qing: kittydiary
hg: kittyland majiam hello kitty
hg: i want small cat diary leh...... hai
hg: smallcatjournal not taken though..... hmm........
Qing: or
Qing: hmm
Qing: i thinking for u
Qing: ohter words for diary

This conversation took place on 11th July 2006, about 11.22pm. See how sloth has hampered my progress in turning this blog into a reality?

It's running late now and I'm not really keen in typing a long, wordy post now. Say, did I mention that this is going to be the only long, wordy post around on this blog? All other posts will adopt a show-and-tell approach with a higher ration of "showing" than "telling". I hope I can keep to that, for I can get real long-winded at times. Yeah, like now. Oh, heck...

OK, so that's it for now. I'll upload pictures in the near future. OK, more specifically, in a week's time.