For All the Cats I Loved

            I was ‘doing’ my other blog when I saw my cat sleeping (and probably dreaming as well) on top of one of our cabinets. All of a sudden, I kind of felt inspired to write about my little fluffy friends.

            Our household currently has two cats, namely Aw-Aw and Ming-Ming (blame my Mom for their names). Aw-Aw is a two year-old male, Garfield-like cat, around 2 feet long from snout to tail. Why Garfield-like? He has those brownish-orange-khaki stripes, with a long tail, and is fat – fat for an average ‘Pinoy’ cat. My brother found him on the streets along with his siblings, probably thrown away by its owners. His tiger-like eyes was striking, so my brother picked him up and took him home.

            Ming-Ming is Aw-Aw and our neighbor’s black and gray cat’s offspring. She’s a white, orange, and black cat with orange-green eyes (I was pretty surprised as well when I noticed her eye color). She’s the ‘perfect mix’ of her parents, compared to her other siblings. She’s almost a year old now. She was picked-out by my grand mom when she learned that Ming-Ming was our cat’s first offspring.

            Aw-Aw used to attempt to kill Ming-Ming during their first few weeks together. Maybe he thinks Ming-Ming is ‘infiltrating’ his territory and he now has a competition in terms of the attention he gets – jealousy! One thing I’m proud of them is that I was able to train both of them to poop inside the CR!

History of Pets in Our Family

            Our family is originally a ‘dog family’. My mom and her brother grew up having dogs – they had that toy dog type, big dogs, small dogs, fluffy dogs and typical street dogs. When I was a child, I named one of our big dogs Ming-Ming. My mom didn’t really like the name, but no matter how she tried to change the dog’s name, Ming-Ming the dog would only respond when called Ming-Ming. This is why my mom named my cat Aw-Aw.

            When our family grew larger, we had to stop having dogs because my brother was born with asthma. The next pet I had then were two goldfishes. I named both of them Goldie – I couldn’t determine which is which. They were those elongated type goldfish, not that fat with a fluffy tail type.

            One of the two Goldie’s died months later after we bought them, maybe because their fishbowl is getting smaller for the both of them. We couldn’t afford a bigger tank. I noticed the remaining Goldie looking for his/her companion, it was the first time his/her fish in a bowl life to have the bowl solo. Maybe he/she missed the other Goldie.

            June 11, 1998. On that fateful day, Goldie passed away due to suffocation. We were so poor then that we couldn’t even afford replacing Goldie’s broken oxygen tank that has been out for weeks.

            I cried hard when I found my little friend floating in the water. He/She was my pet for two years. I asked my mom to make a fish casket out of scrap folders and plastic cover for Goldie. The next day, my siblings, cousins and I arranged a little funeral for our beloved fish.

Cat Love!

            Around 3 years later, I woke up one morning and heard soft mewing from the little play place we have outside the house. I ran out and found my cousins fussing around a tiny kitten they found in one of the broken cabinets of that old teacher’s table beside our house.

            It was love at first sight. I picked him up, he was just the size of my palm! He suddenly stopped crying, hung on my ratty shirt, then slept. I named him Gem, just like that boy in the story who found a kitten on the street.

            I know my mom would be furious if she found out that I adopted a cat. She doesn’t like cats because of the stinky poop. So I hid Gem. For the first few weeks of his life with me, he had to live inside a basket or inside my vacant drawer, eating milk and bread. He was scared of the dark at first, but eventually got used to it. Besides, he still has time to get some sunshine whenever my mom goes to work. We would play around while I teach him a few tricks.

            My mom eventually found out about him when he escaped from his basket while I was asleep. She threw him out, but Gem eventually found a way home. Thus, my mom was forced to accept Gem as a new part of the family, but with a condition that he’ll be tied like a dog outside our house.

            For the first few weeks as the house cat, Gem lived among the hollow blocks stacked at our ‘garden’. He chose a big hollow block as his temporary ‘home’. The middle hole was where he slept, while the other two were for his poop (he did this ‘arrangement’ by himself). When he was a bit larger, there came a ‘cat terrorist’ along our neighborhood. The rainy season has come as well, so my mom eventually allowed him inside the house.

            Like any other pet owner, I had poop problems with Gem. He basically pooped everywhere! This is how I learned how to clean cat poop properly. As expected, my mom gets furious every time she smells something stinky in our house. Gem eventually learned to poop outside our house. Unfortunately for our neighbor, my cat added up to the cat population who uses their garden as the official ‘cat station’.

            Gem was a sweet and intelligent cat. He would always greet me when I get home from school. He would curl up on my lap when we watch TV, comfort me when I’m sad, and give me that ‘are you serious?’ look just when I was thinking about ridiculous ideas. He gets angry when I stick out my tongue at him.

            He likes to have his picture taken. He would do a pose whenever someone calls him for a photo-op. He’s that type of cat who likes veggies as much as he likes fish. He doesn’t eat raw food, including those unfortunate mice he captures during his ‘fun time’. He loves spaghetti as much as I do. I believe that he thinks I’m another cat like him because he would treat me like one when he wants to play with me. Think about how cats play.

            But there was a time back then when I wasn’t a good pet owner. I was a depressed and angry girl. Unfortunately, I directed my anger at Gem. I would hit him for no apparent reason, didn’t feed him regularly, or just completely ignore him. The feeling of guilt still haunts me now. I pray to cat heaven that he has forgiven me.

            He stayed with my family for four and a half years. On the 22nd day of December 2005, Gem died due to internal bleeding caused by the attacks of that cat terrorist neighbor. We buried his small body in a real garden the next day.

            I still miss Gem. I still cry whenever I think of him. He was there, loyal and patient even if I wasn’t good at him. He was always there when I’m sad and needed a companion, a friend. I pray that he’s now happy in cat heaven.

            After Gem, I had a few failed attempts to have a new cat. One of them was killed by that cat terrorist and the other was too weak to grow up without a cat mother.

            And one fateful night, I went home from school and found a little Garfield, tied outside our house.