Too hot, too cold.

The Malaysian weather can't be more ambivalent around this time of the year as it vacillates between rain and shine. Seemingly confused as to whether it'd be more fun to dehydrate the earthlings, or to make them moan and whine over wet laundry. Interestingly, when it's scorching hot, the cats usually sleep outside under the shade of the front porch, between potted plants or underneath cars. They don't seem to mind the heat as much as we do. But when it rains, they scamper into the house. Most of the time they dislike water, but some of my cats would dash through the rain just to escape having to be kept inside when they feel like we're trying to restrict their freedom to party all night. This is especially the case with Jessica. She's quite the popular one on our street as for some reason, the tom cats in the area are so attracted to her even though she can't fulfill their "needs" and she doesn't have an affable personality either. In fact, she's quite the catty bitch and if you get on her bad side, she will be very persistent about chasing you into the ditch and then walk away with a piece of your ear as a trophy. Heck, she'll nip you even if you're on her good side so you can go ahead and label her crazy. Despite being Medusa, she's got a boyfriend or two ever so willing to be at her beck and call. And we humans love her nonetheless which may be why she's developed a bossy 'my way or the highway' attitude.   

"This slab of concrete is MINE. This plant I'm basking under is also MINE. Along with everything else you think you own" - The Tuxedo Princess

While Jessica won't surrender her well-guarded territory even in a hailstorm, the rest aren't so keen to stay out if the sky is weeping and throwing lightening tantrums. The older ones are particularly sensitive to bad weather. Too hot or too cold, they'll surely start to show signs of illness.

Kiki has been having health problems for awhile now due to her age. But lately she's been feeling more and more inclined to sleep all day. She's less alert too causing her to act and look more like a drunken sailor/senior cat as the days go by. Even so, Kiki still has an appetite and she hasn't dropped her duty as our personal tummy masseuse just yet. This one can't resist kneading our bellies when we sit or lie down in the living room. Sometimes, she makes sure she warms us up too by sitting on our stomachs like a warm loaf of bread. She doesn't expect anything in return other than maybe a shoe to sleep in when she feels like it. It's true, she likes to sleep in shoes although she's much too big to actually fit in any of ours but she'll try. A little fur on our shoes is just a small price to pay for all the love and attention Kiki showers us with. 

Napping through an episode of American Horror Story.
Kiki will likely sleep through  any blood-curdling scream no matter how high the octave but the minute you attempt to take a picture of her snoring, she will open an eye and let you know she's been watching all along. 

The Tangle Tango

As of late, the fancy-smancy grouch above has found his fur to be of high maintenance now that its growing wild like some odd growth spurt in old age. His fur didn't use to be as long and fluffy as it has gotten in the past few years and because he's a senior kittyzen, he's finding it harder to groom on his own resulting in some twist and knots here and there especially around his armpits. Thank God he's an AXE man by nature so fear of an unwelcoming after-hours body stench is unnecessary :p

In the past, I've had to bring Parsi to the vet a couple of times to deal with matted hair as to comb him over myself would be an experience Parsi would rather avoid for all the touching it involves and how we'd have to be in close proximity for more than 5 minutes. You know he is a grumpy grandpa, right? Never forget it. And just like one, you kinda have to force him to see the doctor and you can never point out his mistakes or ask him to change his ways. But unlike a real grandpa he wont' tell you war stories or how it was like in the good old days. What can I say? He's also a snob.

His fur has gotten particularly thick in the chest and belly area. For the most part, the belly is not the source of his woe. It's the other hard to reach places that puts a strain on him. I've recently purchased a proper grooming comb to help him out a bit because he gets extra frustrated when the knots form and pinch his skin. I've also noticed that he gets tired more quickly when he's cleaning himself. Of course, the handful of times I've attempted to smooth his fur out, he would snap at me like a tortoise minus the beak, blood, protruding bones and missing fingers. Parsi's bites are quite harmless considering how he doesn't have a lot of teeth to hold on to your skin. Even so, he'll try. Fiercely. If that doesn't work to loosen your grip on him, he will use his hind legs to kick like a kangaroo. Does he watch Nat Geo to study the many ways animals attack/defend themselves? Maybe, maybe not since he hates being in the living room where the TV is located. It comes with no surprise that you must hide the comb while approaching him for if he sees it, he's going to jump the gate without a second to lose. He may be old and fat but he's a nifty sprinter. You wouldn't think it but he'll show you to judge him by all that extra baggage he carries on his sides.

To make matters worse, recently he's been making one too many ditch expeditions much to our dismay. Obviously, the drain is not the most hygienic place you'd want your cat to be napping in and he often emerges from the "underground" caked in mud. I think he just finds some kind of comfort lounging and exploring the drain. It's his own tunnel network and I picture him surveying the grounds like one would do in a cave guided by the light of a hard hat except he's got eyes well equipped to see in the dark instead. Since he's a smart one, he knows that we can't catch him if he's in there and whenever he feels like messing with us, he'd run off into the drain to avoid being put indoors or hugged. Occasionally, he'll get really stubborn and stay in there for hours or overnight. Irked by being outwitted, we thought we'd teach him a lesson --so we gave him a good scrubbing in a "bubble" bath and after we've had him satisfactorily clean and smelling faintly of mango, we fixed him with a collar attached with a bell so we can keep track of his whereabouts. Also, admittedly, to annoy him with the humiliation of being "owned" in such a manner. The cat knows that a neon green collar printed with white hearts and dangling with a shiny bell in fuchsia would indeed jeopardize his street thug image but that's what you get when you (sorta) bite the hand that feeds.I made sure it was as flashy and flamboyant a collar that can be :p He was none too happy but he can live with it. Makes it easier to track him down since you only have to listen out for the bell to know where he is. Surprisingly, with a collar on, he's more well behaved and so long as it doesn't hurt him, he'll tolerate a bruised ego, having to appear more "domesticated" and always inadvertently making a grand entrance with the jingling. 

The bright green brings out his eyes, no? A touch of fuchsia in your outfit can do wonders! A must-have accessory :p
And of course, that's Maggie in the front, photo-bombing.

Truth is, I have mixed feelings about collars. I'm afraid they might harm the cats more than serve any kind of purpose. I'll admit that it's just more of an aesthetic accessory. But it is effective when it comes to signaling their presence and warning small prey they might be after. And in Parsi's case, a behaviour-correcting tool. However, I won't subject my cats to wearing them unless they can tolerate it. Out of all the cats I've ever owned, only 2 can manage a collar while the rest become a ticking time bomb the second it's on. They can't help but be consumed by agitation for having a piece of cloth around their necks let alone one with a dangling, tingling bell. They will literally go crazy. Sakura would have her eyes dilate like she's on acid and would run endlessly around the house, ready to lose her shit. The rest would claw at their necks and writhe around as if some unseen force is riding on their backs. This attempt to free themselves of the collar will quickly turn into a safety hazard as they risk choking and injuring themselves one way or another.

Sakura on the verge of of losing her temper. Full-blown agitation would look crazier than this and in this picture she's about to get pissed because I've chosen to take her picture instead of scratching behind her ears as she has demanded.

When we had our first cat (Mama Ayeow) many years ago, we tried putting a collar on her and all was fine for the first few minutes. But then she ran off and an hour later she came home looking very odd. Upon inspection, we found that one front leg was tangled up in the collar and to our horror, the ring that attached the bell to the collar was stuck between two of her bottom front teeth so her head was forced downwards! It was a wonder how she managed to get home and we quickly cut the collar off. That was the first and last time Mama Ayeow wore a collar. After that, we swore never to make them wear one again but a few years later we tested each cat to see how they'd take it. Making sure to observe them within an enclosed area to see their reaction. If all's calm, I make sure that the collar is the right fit. Wouldn't want it to get caught on a branch or the spikes on the gate. This is a great worry of mine so I don't take it lightly because the thought of having Parsi choke or hang to death horrifies me.

As much as I like to see cats dressed up in pretty collars, it is never at the expense of their safety and sanity so I make sure they won't be in danger or experience discomfort. Parsi may not love it but he tolerates it and as long as it's safe, he'll survive wearing something so '80s in fashion.

PS- Just a tip, when choosing a collar make sure the bell is not attached to it by a big loop ring as this can get snagged on something and choke your cat. I always make sure there is not a lot of room between the bell and the collar. The bell should be hanging at the shortest distance possible from the collar. It is also advisable to use snap collars instead of belt collars. The best would be breakaway collars but those can be hard to find around here. 

One reads. The other one jeers.

The newest (and youngest) two that we have in the household is Maggie and Jenny. 

The sisters showed up on a stormy evening in September 2010 and long story short, after a couple of months waiting for a suitable new owner, I made the decision to become just that. I can tell you that I didn't do it because I needed  to add to my crazy pack nor to fill in a psychological void. I did it because it was really hard to earn their trust (especially Maggie) and when they finally decided it was ok to be around humans without fearing the worst, I didn't have the heart to hand them over to someone else. It felt like betrayal if I had sent them away after they finally decided it was safe to not be scared of us. They were born feral and didn't have a pinch of trust for people and even now, they aren't friendly among unfamiliar faces. Plus, Parsi wanted a posse of his own. Boy, did he regret that later on because they can't seem to understand his want for "me time". That's what you get Pat for refusing to be my lap cat. Now you get to have not only one, but two of your own! 

Maggie: "Oh My Spinx! Did ya know that wizards wear pointy hats so that they could communicate with aliens?!
It's MINDBLOWING, right?!" Parsi: "UGH! She reads ONE BOOK and then she thinks she knows EVERYTHING!"

Being the young ones, they usually like to put on their glittery heart-shaped glasses on and think about new ways to catch butterflies and geckos successfully. 

Jenny (right) likes the outdoors while Maggie (left) prefers the house furniture but they make time to wrestle with one another everyday, in and outside of the house. They're both terrified of male human beings but have a lot of love for male cats. As I mentioned before, they're quite attached to Parsi as if he's the one who rescued them from the streets. But now that they've gotten older, Parsi easily gets miffed over Jenny's clingy nature but still tolerates her in his posse because his heart is not as dark as his fur. But don't tell anyone because if word gets out, he'd lose "street cred".

It took a while to tame them and to have them accept us for more than the source of food, but now not only do they trust us gangly-limbed giants but they also seem to "like" us too. Maggie will come up to me and hang around. Occasionally she'll subtly rub against my leg, but more often than not, she prefers the legs of furniture nearest to where I'm standing. Jenny is also not much for tactile affection but prefers to be vocal. It would be cute if she didn't sound like she's trying to warn us that the house is on fire every time she opens her mouth.

They've settled in quite nicely and every day they get fatter and fatter because they'll eat at every chance they get. Life was hard on the street. Now that it's cosier, it's time for first world problems even though they only live in a "developing country". Next thing you know, someone is going to have a problem with the kind of plastic their cat bowl is made of and after that, will start questioning why they can't ride in a leopard print designer bag instead of the old pet carrier that's so yesterday. I can already see it now, these budding divas are going to demand they show up in style at the vet for their yearly jabs or make you carry them around the building to enter through the back door.

What's that? I'm projecting a hint of regret, you say? No, of course not! There are no regrets in keeping them. None at all. Just ask Parsi who is constantly diving into the ditch to get away from all their wants and needs. Seeing Parsi get grumpy is what we all live for :)

Note: If you like the funky glasses, you can get a pair of your own at PuglyPixel.  

Food Chain

Benny is known for his love of food and trash but I know he doesn't have a particular knack for hunting.

However, just a few minutes ago he caught a poor little sparrow and brought it home in the rain =(

The cats occasionally catch unsuspecting birds but I'm never quite sure which one is responsible for making us humans schedule an unexpected burial. I was closing a window when I saw him with the unfortunate creature hanging upside down from his jaws. He set it down underneath the outdoor table and I could see that it was clinging to the last moments of its life. The slow and subtle rise and fall of its breathing. Having sensed my disapproval, Benny then transported his victim to the back of the house.

I know Benny was hungry because all of the cats are ever so impatient in the last couple of hours leading to feeding time at 7pm. But I also know that he's not going to eat that bird he just caught. It's just his natural instinct to kill.

I hope the little bird doesn't have anyone waiting for it to bring home dinner.

UPDATE:-

Sure enough, half an hour later we find him by the side of the house with Peekaboo standing by waiting for a lapse in Ben's concentration in preserving his kill so he could snatch it away and bat at it to his heart's desire. We tried to take it away from Ben but it was clear that he was not done with his fresh dead plaything. He ran off with it out of sight.

Not 5 minutes later I enter the kitchen to see him hanging around the cat dish. The winged thing was not within view. Knowing how the cats would not likely let a good thing go to waste, I was pretty sure the bird was in the house somewhere being presented as a "slightly used" gift. We found it scattered in a pile of its own feathers underneath the kitchen table. Symbolic, no? I guess Ben's an angsty artist. After all, he wears a broody expression with his black fur pretty darn well. If only he had let us take it from him earlier so we wouldn't have had to take out the broom. But some people like to make their gift giving a dramatic gesture.

Thank you, Ben.

And yesterday, Ben's momma, Kecik, brought a salamander in. All sleek and slimy and ALIVE!

The look on her face said something along the lines of "What? It'll go well with the sparrow. You haven't cooked it yet, right? I'm sure I saw it in the freezer".

Steamed Sparrow with a side of Salamander, anyone?

UPDATE 2:-

Its final resting place. 

And here lies a broken sparrow to be recycled and forgotten as per nature's way, under a heap of earth. The shovel temporarily marked its grave until we had to use it to remove cat poop on the ground. At least we didn't just chuck the poor bird unceremoniously into my neighbor's yard. Not my next door neighbor, but the evil one across the street. The mean retired man could have used something to do but he would have done it with hate and we felt that the bird should at least have had a prettier face to send it off to its grave.  

Black Panther

We used to have a number of black cats but now we only have one.

Oh, wait! I've always referred to Parsi as a black cat but he was never fully black to begin with and now in old age, he's gotten even more copper brown than before. Kind of like when you bleach your hair the wrong way and then made it worse by trying to wash it out with Clorox. Obviously to do that could only mean that all those chemical fumes have gotten to your brain :p

The look suits Parsi quite well although he does indeed look like someone dipped him in hair dye minus the hair damage. His fur is so smooth and soft! And I don't even groom him for fear of his unbridled rage.

"It ain't my fault that I'm this attractive"- Parsi/Pat
Pat wears his grouchy pants every day. Never leaves his bed without it.
He makes no attempt to cover his grey hair or his contempt.

Ben, the B in P,B &J of yore, is our black cat. Or rather, he's my sister's cat now as she has taken a great liking to him and vice versa. I can't say if she's a closet witch and needed a black cat as a companion for when she brews magical potions in a cauldron on a full moon. But I can tell you she does work nights so she might just have vials of murky liquid lined on a shelf in her room to be suspicious of. You can try getting past Ben at the door to snoop but have I mentioned that Ben likes to mew at the sight of people? I suspect it's some kind of secret warning signal between them to inform her when intruders are approaching. Sometimes though during the day he'll call out from inside her room so someone from the outside would open the door because his owner is out cold and he needs to get to the kitchen to rummage through trash before someone else gets the good stuff.

Mini Black Panther/Resident Ninja/The Witch's Assistant

I honestly think Ben will go with anyone who owns a full trash can as that is unfortunately his favorite thing in all the land. He probably doesn't believe it's a bad thing and views his scavenging as more of an adventure. You just never know what the humans throw out. I used to feel sorry for him when he was a little kitty because he was "ugly". We sorta nicknamed him Babi Hutan (Wild Boar) much to my mom's dismay (she's averse to piggies). But all in good fun, of course. He wasn't really all that ugly but he was not unlike that most famous duckling talked about in fairy tales. Just his luck that his brother Peekaboo was just that much more handsome and looked the complete opposite of him - Peekaboo is white! Shocking discrimination? I know! But what can I do to change the popular vote? It's a superficial world. Make no mistake though, I certainly love all them EQUALLY (expect for Mama Ayeow because she will always be extra special and I don't think they mind) and tend to think it's for their personality rather than just appearance. Just like men, some look good but boy, once they open their mouth to talk, you realize how small a percentage of their brain they actually use. Luckily, it's not as complicated with kitty cats and I thank God for that.

Ben has certainly grown to be our own black panther ninja and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. If we were going to keep one of the P,B&J, we were just going to have to keep them all. While the thought of keeping Ben was born out of pity, but the truth is, it was more out of love and that love was attached to all 3 of them. Obviously, I am a failed foster caretaker because in the end I just promote myself to full time owner. I can never place enough trust in others to give them away and while it may be the fault of some of the adopters I've met before, but it's also mine because I get waaaaaay tooo attached and there's just no turning back.

And that is why in late 2010, we added 2 more to the family.

The new ones always take a liking to Parsi and Parsi is ever so accommodating.
He's very loving despite his surly self...so long as you're not human that is.

We're just outside the window!

Tip-toeing on the rooftop on our dainty little feet and crooked tail :)

We're going to pick things up starting from now! Because taking pictures of cats has been quite easy here on this side of the fence. Cats are just photogenic and can be aspiring camera whores :p Frankly, we're running low on hard drive space with all the shots they insist on keeping for someone feels too cute to be deleted. Also, we kind of wanna share the love with the rest of the crazy internet cat community. The internet surely welcomes all the cats they can get and after all, sharing is caring. Unless of course, you're a cat in which they'll only share once they try to claw each others face off first. Yes, if anything has changed, the clawing most certainly is not one of them. Plus, I just want to get back into (Almost) Crazy Cat Lady mode and allow myself to write about my beloved cuddly furry things (with claws and a whole lotta attitude) because my friends don't really wanna hear it and as self-important as the cats may be, they're having none of it when I try to talk to them about how much I luurrrve them and can you please knead my aching tummy? What's that? Ouuwh no! I said knead. Not gut me open like a pig!

The reaction to all that mushy gooey baby talk will only be tolerated if it's accompanied with a full can of tuna of their chosen brand. Otherwise, they just keep me around to clean the litterbox and if I retaliate by staging a strike, they could care less and just shit on the carpet. Cats. Why again do we love them? Pictures below should illustrate as to why I let them think they can keep me at their mercy instead of the other way around.

Someone is basking in heavenly light..................................                 There's nothing like the soothing scent of bananas.

What do you mean we can't sleep on these nice and clean clothes of yours???

The night we had meat and potatoes.

Here we have the poster cat for fabric softener.

Sweet lips!

What??! Peanut butter and chocolate ice cream?? Where?!!!

These pictures should also clearly indicate their 3 favorite activities:- 

1. Sleeping

2. Eating

3. Staring into your soul. 

What's this?

Oh my...I've not been here in ages and I haven't the slightest clue as to why I've allowed this place to rot in the land of the Internet. Not that we have any fans or actual readers and to say nothing exciting has happened within this catty household would be like saying an Indon sinetron is not over the top dramatic =) Going through the cobwebs of this blog gave me quite the surprise as I can hardly remember my cats being so YOUNG. People, I'll have you know that they look different now! Especially since time waits for freaking no one and they've grown up and have fully developed into their own unique characters. Looking at Kecik's photo in particular made me realize how much she has also changed. Much more mommy-ish and healthy too. She still plays with her kids by the way.

This is why I started this blog, a place for me to visit so that I can look through the posts and the pictures to relive the moments I've had with my awesome and squeeze-worthy cats. It's bittersweet especially since I've lost some in the past 12 months.

Will update in the near future with the latest from this fur-laden nook of the world. Til then...here's how I picture Parsi would feel if he ever had the privilege to get high on catnip. Or maybe how I'd see him if I were high on LSD.

Don't do drugs, kids! =)