CatDonna's Cats

Warning: long post ahead.

Was bumming around in the study a few days ago while the cats were doing their thing.

Pip, Boonie and Doe [the attention seekers] were nudging and shoving each other over rights to my lap. Chocolate [resident sleeping beauty] was asleep on a nearby desk. Lucie ["silent killer"] was gleefully wrestling a Bad Badtz-Maru stuffed toy on the carpet. Teddy [our greedyguts] was in the kitchen chowing down and Polly [The Loner] was probably being nasty and weird somewhere quiet.

They are all sleek, strong and healthy; unless genetically hardwired otherwise [ie Pip and Polly, who are slim and petite], the cats are pleasantly plump. Some even have little love handles that jiggle slightly as they run [Teddy, that's you].

It's really cool when I think that these cats came to me as tiny kittens from less-than-desirable circumstances. I have 7 cats currently; 5 required bottle-feeding, most have faced a medical emergency at one time or another. I have watched them as they curled up to sleep on my hand after a feed and potty-trip, comforted by the warmth of my palm; now I can't fit two onto my lap [you can take turns Doe, stop biting Boonie now!].

I'm not even counting the ones that died.

Let's recap, folks. It's short, as in very short story time:

• Pip, Doe and Teddy were trashbag kittens, tied up and dumped. They were not yet weaned. Pip and Doe were very sick and possibly blind; Teddy had a severe ringworm infection.
• Lucie and Boonie were newborn strays, part of a litter of four with their stray mother, in a box outside a restaurant. The restaurant owner mentioned dumping or drowning them; the mother panicked and disappeared during the rescue; the other two newborns died soon after.
• Chocolate was a stray, picked up from a dingy old coffeeshop while begging for scraps. After a couple of months her sister, a grey tabby version of Chocs and equally beautiful, was sighted at the same coffeeshop. However, it was too late to save Choc's sister from the huge abdominal abscess/tumour that finally killed her.
• Polly was a stray, part of a litter of ten [this may explain her diminutive size], the sole survivor of an AVA culling behind a restaurant near the Fullerton. She is the only cat in this house that I didn't rescue directly; someone called Fiona did and I adopted her from a foster, Phyllis.

And now:

• Pip and Doe are hamming it up as the bona fide rulers of this little kingdom - they were the first two to actually live here and so THEY OWN THIS PLACE. Bullying humans, rabbits and other cats into grovelling submission. Running out the house to eat the neighbour's plants. Throwing up. Watching the humans shower. What fun!
• Teddy is really enjoying the free-flow buffet here, y'all. Man, he's fat. And when the bowl's empty he literally comes over to us, meowing loudly and leading us towards the kitchen. "Refills, where are the refills, c'mon!!!" Spends the rest of his time chasing the other cats [tummy fat rippling as he runs] and getting beaten up by Doe.
• Polly spends her time napping in quiet sunny places, eating a lot, mouth-molesting the teddy bear in my bedroom [see previous post] and getting chased mercilessly by a rotund, hopelessly daft ginger lardball [Teddy]. She spits and hisses but somehow, I think she enjoys the company.
• Chocolate's making up for lost time when she was a stray kitten and had to keep her wits about her. Now she's asleep in the best spots most of the day, and spends her waking moments cuddling Lucie and Boonie [mostly Boonie... cradle-snatcher].
• Lucie and Boonie may be litter siblings, but they're very different. Lucie enjoys stuffed-toy boxing, bra-destroying and sleeping in the bathroom. Boonie likes to steal human food, and is borderline pathological in his competitive pursuit of attention, laps, cuddling etc. I predict a hierarchical dispute between him, Pip and Doe soon. But that doesn't have to happen. Adoptions, anyone?

I guess my point is that these kittens have come a long way. Life is good for them; humans are servants and companions, not enemies. They "fight" [if that's what you call it] for sun-spots, not survival. I'm very sure they've forgotten their traumatic, painful pasts.

I'm just as sure that I mustn't.

I'm no saint, just a person who stopped when the trashbag started whining. A person who couldn't walk away from the newborns in a box on a cold, wet October night. A person who set up a blog to make a difference, no matter how small, in getting help for abandoned animals or strays in danger.

And I'm glad I'm not the only one who's stepped forward in the virtual world. Check out the links on the side and you'll realise how cool the cool cats in Singapore and elsewhere really are. Yeah. You guys rock. ;) Which reminds me. There are so many great blogs and other sites out there! I need to expand my blogroll... if you wanna recommend any site [yours included] please drop a line.

Ok that was a long post. The woman being reflective and slightly sentimental about her monsters?! Incredible.

This be some strong flu medication she's on.

Pics coming up soon. They're very cool.


CatDonna