I am just but one of the many wandering furry souls in your village, and every day, together with the other furry creatures in the neighborhood, we roam up and down your winding streets, climb your trees and your rooftops.
Day and night, we tread, or creep along the many crooks and crevices of this tiny conclave of yours, hoping that I and my fellow felines may be taken in, and become part of your homes.
This mission of seeking homes that can shelter and feed and care for us may take a lifetime, but still we are happy with our fate, happy we populate this place along with you, dear humans.
So at night, we may bother your peace with our caterwauling, as we exchange notes with cat friends, or safeguard our respective territories from our enemies, lurking within the shadows of your own apartments and houses.
We have nine lives, you humans say that about us.
Thus, we have somehow made your streets, or your vacant lots or even your gardens and yards as our home as well, as much as you fiercely shove us away and leave us to the harsh elements of nature and evil ways of some of your specie.
We have no choice, and we are possessed with a strange resilience in order to adapt to the way you have been treating us so callously, like garbage strewn carelessly on the roads or canals.
Sometimes, we don’t bother to give you time to let us in – you wouldn’t so anyway.
Thus, we just jump right onto your terraces, or backyards – just for a chance, if any, to have a taste of some left-over morsel from your kitchen or dining tables, to appease the raging famine we suffer from, each day of our pitiful lives, and find ourselves some shelter from the heat, or rain, or cold.
We cannot even find a bowl of fresh water waiting for us at your doorstep or yard for us to sip in order to quench the deep thirst in our parched tongues and throats.
So we have no choice but destroy your plants to squeeze off some of the bitter juice from the leaves and stems…to give us momentary relief from the scorching heat of the summer sun.
As we mark each day of our sojourn in this place called Earth, we look up to the heavens above to guide our steps. Perhaps, we are made to scavenge, until some of you, my dear humans, may find it in your heart to love us, as much as we yearn to be cared for, to be pet, to let us belong.
And until you do, this is how we survive, looking for morsels among your rubbish. If only these ornamental plants and trees were made for us to eat – but they are not.
They poison our intestines, little by little, in the way they slowly poison our view about you – selfish, cruel, indifferent humans – You, who are supposed to be stewards of God’s creations, and that includes us, felines and canines, and all the winged little creatures that chirp beautiful melodies as they fly about your homes.
You may think we cannot feel sad, but we do.
Now my face is wet with tears, bitter sad tears at the thought of my poor dear mama who just brought me and my sibling kittens out into this cruel dangerous world – for she too has to go about the daily grind of scouring for food and water as she struggles to keep flesh and bones together. And there’s no milk in her to feed us.
And while doing this, she must also fend off any advances from the ferocious among our specie.
I envy particularly one of us, stray cats. She has been taken in by one of you, a kind heart, because my friend was wise enough to catch the lady’s eyes, hold her gaze with her own eyeballs popping out while her tongue licked the sides of her dry mouth. Such awful hungry picture she made that right away melted that person’s reserve.
So she is in a better place now, my furry friend – off the streets – and living in a multi-tiered shoe rack her lady owner has generously given as her living quarters, right in front of her doorstep, with clean rugs to warm and cushion her soft fluffy body.
I know my friend’s owner has no option but shoo me away each time – after I have gobbled up my friend’s left-over pellets, and laddled some drink from her bowl of fresh water.
Yes, her owner allows me to do so, knowing how famished and thirsty I always am.
Yet, she has to shoo me away for her next door neighbor, ‘Mrs. So-and-so,’ the little fly in my furry friend’s owner’s little patch of paradise, always peeks at her window, willing me and my friend, with her sinister look, to run away — for she hates our guts – hates the very sight of us.
Like most of you who hate us so much that you can easily throw us away from your homes, without even bothering to spare a dropping or two of food – and so we – we pathetically wonder why oh why?!
My Challenge and Suggestion
Now my dear humans, may I then suggest that you no longer let my specie to grow exponentially – if you cannot have the compassion to care for us. Please!
It is not within our means or nature to do so, to stop our specie from growing. But you, my dear humans, have been gifted with brains, and brawns and I suppose – a heart within the very core of each of you.
Either more of you start caring for us, adopt us into your homes, so you can bring us to the doctor and he/she can do something to stop us from having more litters. In time, I guarantee you will thank us for the joy of having us around. Promise.
Or, for those who cannot stand having my specie within breathing distance, you can gather us all in your village hall, call some volunteer veterinarians to spay our females, and neuter the males among us. Please!
Abandoned Cat, Waiting for Home…
Image shows my adopted cat, Muning, erstwhile stray I wish to acknowledge the writing prompt : The Art of an Open Letter