Sunday, February 8, 2009

Day 2

Woke up feeling worse. My body ached big time. My head felt like it had been hit by a baseball bat. I vomitted.

A few spoonfuls of chicken porridge was all I could muster. A cup of coffee and my medication. That was it.

Sean is oblivious to his mommy's feeling, oh how wonderful it is to be a child. He's sad his pet is gone. While having breakfast he saw a cat on the patio and he said, "Poor Knut. No one is looking after her." I bit my lips in an effort not to show my sadness about the situation. Outside, Beano, our neighbor's Australian Silky Terrier, is barking for Knut, his usual routine every morning. He gets really excited if he sees Knut. Guess he's got no playmate any longer. We leave the sliding door ajar every night and day in case Knut comes back.

I've to shower. Roy has bought movie tickets to watch a movie at Pavilion KL. I don't really feel like leaving the comfort of my couch and sweat pants. Sean's watching Open Season 2 on DVD. At least that has managed to put a smile on my face. My guys are great for setting a mood...

Alrightie, gotta go now.

Sliding door will remain open.

Knut The Lovely

I’m so sad I don’t even know how to begin. This time I can’t really compartmentalize my feelings, I can’t divide my thoughts and really all these emotions are making me sick. Like sick I fell ill. I haven't been feeling up to the weather since last week but what happened yesterday had officially put me in the ill category. I’m drained out though I try so hard not to cry my eyes out but I’m just mentally tired now. See how I digress..?

My kitten is missing. My lovely baby is gone. Memories of her keep reeling in my head, from the first time I saw that tiny scrawny little kitten trying to make it across the road that night when our car was at the traffic lights about to turn into our neighborhood, to how I begged my husband to go get her and how I will take care of her as in clean her potty and bathe her and feed her also groom her to how my husband refused at first knowing how his wife always gets away not fulfilling the first one. Oh how I begged and begged thinking then the chance was so slim as we had driven past the guard post when Roy so sweetly pulled over and got out of the car and out of the area to get my little baby from across the road. It’s funny how you know something is meant to be yours the first time you lay eyes on it.

When we took the little kitten in it was barely a month old, the tiny quivering body with prominent ribcage that had never had human contact before based on how she had bitten Roy’s hand when he tried to feed her with kitten food. Roy practically screamed with pain and she wouldn’t let go of his hand until Roy had to yank the bloodied hand away. We didn’t even know what to call her. Heck we didn’t even know if it was a girl or a boy as it was too small tell. All of us came up with all sorts of name, my son wanted to call her Speedy seeing her pace running around playing with the toy ball we gave her. I thought Speedy wasn’t it. Then I thought of Zorro because of the black fur around her eyes which resembled Zorro’s mask. Anyway I still felt it wasn’t the name for her. Until I remembered how I used to love Knut the polar bear, I knew it will grow to be as cute as Knut. Yes Knut is a male name, but she responded to that name. And so it was. Knut. Noot-noot when I buried my face in her tummy. Noot-noot when I called her inside for her milk when she was playing in the lawn. Noot-noot when she kissed my face all over before she crept under the cover to sleep between my feet.

There she is with the laundry.

Four months on and how she had grown. Physically she was bigger, fatter, no protruding bones anymore, as active as ever with beautiful shiny fur. I thought I was being biased but when a few friends came over one night for a round of card game saw her and complimented her looks I knew I wasn’t being biased. My parents especially my mom loved her. She slept with us every night. Without fail. Even if she had spent her day in and out of the house (she’s not a house cat per se) she would come back at bedtime. She would wake up with us in the morning, fight with Roy over who got to use the bathroom first (her potty’s in the bathroom Roy uses) then she would rush upstairs to my bathroom and stayed in there while I showered for work. She would sit curiously across the room looking at me getting ready putting my make up on, getting dressed and making the bed. I would carry her, cuddle with her for the last time before carrying her downstairs and making my way out.

Last night was the last I saw of her. We played outside and I saw her sprawling in front of my neighbor’s house and a little girl called to her and tried so hard to touch her. Anyone who has cats would know how snobbish a cat could be. A cat will come when it wants to, not when it’s called. My Knut was that except towards her family. My Knut was actually a scaredy cat. She’s even scared of our gardener whom she sees everyday. When the trash truck comes round she’d dash inside and hide behind the curtains. She wasn’t as friendly as our other cats before her (when I’m ready I’ll tell you about Louis and Louis the 2nd). But she was a lovable one to those she’s close to and familiar with. I found out from my neighbor today that her daughter loved playing with Noot-Noot. I’m glad other people found her adorable and lovable.

Knut has not come back for two nights now. Last night Roy went out on a search after midnight seeing how she hadn’t come back. Today all of us went on a few rounds of search again. No sight of her. Word has been put out. I can’t bring myself to put up posters around the neighborhood because that will just tear me apart seeing her pictures all over and coming back to an empty house. No more Knut curling at our feet, no more wet dripping kisses at night, no more the naughty girl who played with the neatly folded laundry and no more soft purr in my ears.

There she goes again.....
Tonight I realize maybe she wasn’t meant to be mine anyways.

Wherever she is I hope she is safe. Whomever she is with I hope he or she will love Knut and care for her. I hope she remembers my love for her.

I don’t think I’ll be ready for any more cats after this. Three times is just too many.

Excuse me, but I think the dam's gates have opened.

Thursday, February 5, 2009