I am failing at keeping a blog! If you are shocked by this
fact, I feel a bit sorry for you. I am absolutely dreadful at maintaining
blogs. To be honest, I’m fairly proud of myself for maintaining a blog even
this infrequently. I guess I just struggle with the purpose of writing a
general update for the world to see or…with the idea that anyone can read the
letter (including my students) without actually knowing if anyone will read it.
And then those who do read it, many of you I stay in contact with anyway so why
be repetitive and redundant. Probably because I leave things out and a rant
about cats doesn’t seem appropriate when I’m just on the phone. Which is why
now seems like such a wonderful time to talk about cats!
Wait…what? That’s right, I am dedicating this
entry to cats. Yes, many things happen in my life on a regular and daily basis
some of which seem important and others not so much. Since I last wrote, my
students performed at the state-level choral speaking competition and didn’t
place but made me proud; I have been part of more English camps; I have had a
training session in TESOL; I have traveled by bus to Mersing; I have started
fasting for Ramadhan. All sorts of good times. However, these are not the
reasons why I am writing today.
No particular reason comes to mind as to why
today of all days I want to write to you about the cats of Malaysia, but it
needs to happen. I even made a note to talk about this a few months back
because felines are such a constant part of my life in Malaysia?
Do I have a pet cat? No. I have not been
hosting a secret pet cat in my quarters. It’s not even against the rules like
it was back in college. So think again! In fact, I wish that it was against the
rule.
This is becoming very disorganized. I am going
to start over.
Malaysia has a cat problem.
I am not sure why.
Will you see the occasional stray dog? Yes, but
the number of stray cats to stray dogs is a ratio of maybe twenty or thirty to
one. Cats are everywhere – scrawny cats of all colours.
I delight in the nasal wake-up call every
morning when I walk down to the first floor and catch a lovely whiff of cat
urine. It’s a delightful stench that makes my nose want to shrivel and fall off
to avoid repeating the experience for the hundredth time. However, my nose,
thus far, has remained attached to my face.
Shortly after this daily occurrence, I want to
just click my heels together in glee when I have to watch where I step while
unlocking my motorbike. The sand and gravel of the parking lot is just a giant
litter box. Didn’t you know? Splendid. If a pile of sand is not an anthill
which is deadly in it of itself, beware that mound of dust; it has an even more
fragrant surprise in store.
Where do all these cats come from that leave
aromatic treasures in my day-to-day life?
Well, the people on the first floor of my
apartment building own three (or was it six?) cats that roam free and stink up
the place but there are far more than those few.
Explanatory anecdote: I know a police inspector
and his wife in town. They have an interesting relationship though I won’t get
into all of that here. Because he works nights and she works days, the wife is
often lonely. As one means to try and alleviate his wife’s loneliness, the
husband gave the wife two kittens. When my roommate and I asked about the cats
a few weeks later, we were told that the cats ran away because the wife forgot
to feed them.
Have you ever paused to think that Bob Barker
actually had a good reason o tell you to spay and neuter your pets, your cats
and dogs? I never gave it much thought. Malaysia has forced me to think about
it far more seriously. After all, because of little concern for breeding, there
are breeding, disgusting, mangy, stinky cats running amuck all over Malaysia!
They are in the garbage cans, cowering in stairwells, relieving themselves in
teachers’ rooms, hiding in students’ desks, defecating in parking lots, and
reproducing in the school canteens. Not to mention, they are a hazard while
driving motorbikes.
Need I say more?
Oh, but I can!
Cat tails. Have you ever given them much
thought? I used to enjoy watching the flick of my family’s cat’s tail. It
always told me whether she was truly sleeping or faking it. Josie’s tail would
flick with a very special kind of annoyance when she was actually awake but
wanted to sleep. Still, I knew she wouldn’t mind if I disturbed her slumber to
stroke her or cuddle with her on the couch.
Malaysian cats don’t have tails like Josie
does. Most of them don’t have the same length of tail that domestic cats do in
the United States. Some have no tails. Some have a bob. Some have a stumpy
tail. Some tails just seem short. Others look like little clubs because they
are a fat ball at the end. How do the cats end up having tails like this? I’m
not sure. Sometimes, I think it is due to breeding. However, some of the tails,
I swear are broken. In fact, when I was in Indonesia, I was told by a local
that they had to break a cat’s tail to keep evil spirits away. Do Malaysians
believe the same thing? I have never gotten it confirmed.
However, Malaysians do love these disgusting
cats. They pick up the pathetic little mewling kittens which look no more than
a few days old. They coddle and feed and flea-bitten, one-eyed feline wonders
that dare to jump up on their plastic-covered tables and attempt to eat their
scraps. Do they take any of the cats home? Do they clean any of them up? Do
they make any commitment to becoming an owner of a cat and give the poor thing
a better life? No.
So the cat crisis continues. I continue to
leave a stinky apartment to enter a smelly teachers’ room. I continue to shoo
cats away from the table and off my bag. I continue to give a head nod to the
troll cat who guards the bridge I take to cross over into town. And sadly, yes, I continue to shake my head at the ETAs
who take pity on strays to give them a better life for a little while only to,
inevitably, desert them in a fewmonths.
Dear Malaysians, if you love cats so much, take
care of them. If you don’t love them, getting rid of them does not mean
introducing your un-spayed, pet-for-a-week female cat to the five tom cats
yowling in the street. It’ll end badly for everyone.
The end.
