An Af-fur to Remember
*I'm not quite sure what my cat's gender exactly is. But for the sake of this post, let's assume she's female.*
I never thought I would fall in love with a cat.
I remember the first day I laid eyes on her. It was a sunny morning. I was fixing my look in front of the mirror and almost ready to go to work when suddenly Papa, my father, caught my attention.
Papa: Jay, may kuting sa labas ng gate.
Charvie: ...Eh ano naman ngayon?
Papa: Kasi nakasabit siya sa imburnal...
There she was, right outside our gate, crying as if there was no tomorrow. Her body was hanging as her head got stuck between the steel bars covering our sidewalk's manhole. Her saliva covered her entire neck. She was traumatized and delirious. Papa and I took her inside and nursed her. Realizing that we didn't have milk at that time, I prepared her a few milliliters of mixture of Coffee-mate, Milo and water. She could not walk - she was only several days older than a newborn litter.
Assuming she had enough nourishment, I decided to leave her in a flower box outside our gate, hoping that her relatives would come to fetch her. I asked Papa to take a look at our patient while I was gone for work. When I got back, I checked her condition and fed her. Two days have passed and she was still where I was leaving her, taken inside and fed every once in a while with a mixture I doubted was sufficient for her health. In rained on the third day, and I had to make a drastic move. Three days had passed and no other cats bothered to get her. Rainy days had started and she had to be taken care of, or she'd die. I took her in and brought her up to our balcony.
I called her Nge-Nge. Short for bangenge.
I bought a can of evaporated milk just for her. I had to use my small beaker and even buy a medicine dropper just so I could effectively feed her. Every morning and night, I made sure she had more than she needed. One time, I misdiagnosed her to have a worm infection, finding out later on that she was only "bondat." I even gave her a bath every week and made sure she had some exercise before I left her.
She grew up gracefully. See this as proof.
I observed her hopping faster everyday. At first I was protecting her from my our two hounds, Yoko and Skipper, but Nge-Nge eventually adapted and bravely played "tag" with them. She even earned my respect by hunting down two mice lurking in the corners of our house - a recognition Yoko and Skipper never earned. See this. I even allowed her to sleep with me in my bed. I always heard her motor-like purr when she's near my ear and crawling on my body while I was half asleep. Somehow I got used to have someone crawling over me. Kidding.
She was doing quite well, except for her shit; it stinked. My mom hated cleaning and removing the stench of Nge-Nge's litter. Moreover, they claimed, and I somehow agreed, that having three pets is too much for our household. My parents did not buy the benefit of keeping a mouse hunter in the house. They made sure that I always heard from them that Nge-Nge had to go. I was ignoring them, thinking that it was not yet the right time. She's too young, I thought, and might die out there.
As I came home from work one night, Papa reported that Nge-Nge made her way out of the balcony and ran away. I was furious. I remember myself ranting at my parents that their wish was granted. And then I lost hope overnight. She's dead, I assumed.
She came back the next day.
From then on, I realized that Nge-Nge was an intelligent creature after all. Knowing she's back and safe made me realize that I was wrong. She will survive. And our house isn't big enough for all of us. My parents were right. She had to go - and she did. Mommy saw the opportunity when her pupils had a sports activity in their school. She brought Nge-Nge with her, together with the pupils who would take care of her from then on. As what I've heard, one of Mommy's pupils adopted her. I always assume that she is still in good hands.
There is no greater miracle than to save and nurture life.
I never thought I would fall in love with a cat.I remember the first day I laid eyes on her. It was a sunny morning. I was fixing my look in front of the mirror and almost ready to go to work when suddenly Papa, my father, caught my attention.
Papa: Jay, may kuting sa labas ng gate.
Charvie: ...Eh ano naman ngayon?
Papa: Kasi nakasabit siya sa imburnal...
There she was, right outside our gate, crying as if there was no tomorrow. Her body was hanging as her head got stuck between the steel bars covering our sidewalk's manhole. Her saliva covered her entire neck. She was traumatized and delirious. Papa and I took her inside and nursed her. Realizing that we didn't have milk at that time, I prepared her a few milliliters of mixture of Coffee-mate, Milo and water. She could not walk - she was only several days older than a newborn litter.
Assuming she had enough nourishment, I decided to leave her in a flower box outside our gate, hoping that her relatives would come to fetch her. I asked Papa to take a look at our patient while I was gone for work. When I got back, I checked her condition and fed her. Two days have passed and she was still where I was leaving her, taken inside and fed every once in a while with a mixture I doubted was sufficient for her health. In rained on the third day, and I had to make a drastic move. Three days had passed and no other cats bothered to get her. Rainy days had started and she had to be taken care of, or she'd die. I took her in and brought her up to our balcony.
I called her Nge-Nge. Short for bangenge.
I bought a can of evaporated milk just for her. I had to use my small beaker and even buy a medicine dropper just so I could effectively feed her. Every morning and night, I made sure she had more than she needed. One time, I misdiagnosed her to have a worm infection, finding out later on that she was only "bondat." I even gave her a bath every week and made sure she had some exercise before I left her.
She grew up gracefully. See this as proof.
I observed her hopping faster everyday. At first I was protecting her from my our two hounds, Yoko and Skipper, but Nge-Nge eventually adapted and bravely played "tag" with them. She even earned my respect by hunting down two mice lurking in the corners of our house - a recognition Yoko and Skipper never earned. See this. I even allowed her to sleep with me in my bed. I always heard her motor-like purr when she's near my ear and crawling on my body while I was half asleep. Somehow I got used to have someone crawling over me. Kidding.
She was doing quite well, except for her shit; it stinked. My mom hated cleaning and removing the stench of Nge-Nge's litter. Moreover, they claimed, and I somehow agreed, that having three pets is too much for our household. My parents did not buy the benefit of keeping a mouse hunter in the house. They made sure that I always heard from them that Nge-Nge had to go. I was ignoring them, thinking that it was not yet the right time. She's too young, I thought, and might die out there.
As I came home from work one night, Papa reported that Nge-Nge made her way out of the balcony and ran away. I was furious. I remember myself ranting at my parents that their wish was granted. And then I lost hope overnight. She's dead, I assumed.
She came back the next day.
From then on, I realized that Nge-Nge was an intelligent creature after all. Knowing she's back and safe made me realize that I was wrong. She will survive. And our house isn't big enough for all of us. My parents were right. She had to go - and she did. Mommy saw the opportunity when her pupils had a sports activity in their school. She brought Nge-Nge with her, together with the pupils who would take care of her from then on. As what I've heard, one of Mommy's pupils adopted her. I always assume that she is still in good hands.
There is no greater miracle than to save and nurture life.
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