April 22, 2015

#Writing 101: Serially Found

On day four, I wrote a post about losing something. Today’s Prompt: Write about finding something.Use this one as the second installment — loosely defined from the Serially Lost post.

Maxwell, or fondly known as Ah-Max  as a term of endearment in Singlish, was a scrawny, scruffy but friendly little kitten of about 2-3 months old when he made an appearance before us along Maxwell Road. He followed us for a good 300 meters back to our office after accompanying us at lunch time and made such a big fuss when we had to leave.

Neither one of us had the heart to leave him, so we scooped him up, took him to our office, gave him a bath, fed him, let him roam in our spacious balcony and named him after the road where he was found.  We made him a nice little home temporarily in the office balcony , along the walkway to the toilet with the intention of putting him up for adoption.

After 2 days, one of my colleagues, who already had a dog, decided that she would adopt him. But as she had to go to a meeting, she requested that I took Maxwell with me first and she’ll come pick him up later in the evening. It was merely for convenience as I lived closest to her.

She came by as promised and took him home. Not an hour later, I got a call from her that she needed to send Ah-Max to me temporarily as her dog and Ah-Max had gone berserk on each other. We found out later that Ah-Max hated dogs, and in his teenage years, we have actually seen him attacked dogs and chase after them!

As reluctant as I was at that time as I already had a cat, I did not have much choice but to house him for a couple more days till she was ready to try again. It never happened and Ah-Max never leave our home. He had found his way to our hearts.

He was the sweetest cat, although my older cat did not like him very much. Intruder! She would say. But Ah-Max was friendly to her and wanted to make friends. She eventually tolerated him and funnily enough, they became good friends.

I remember that when my old cat passed, Ah-Max got extremely disoriented. He spent a few days meowing away, going to areas in the house and sniffing her out, looking for her. He would sleep at the places where only she had “owned” and when we caught Ah-Max doing that, he would look at us, with sad eyes and gave the softest, sad meow…as if telling us that he missed her.Oh! How my heart broke.

He never was quite the house cat, given his street-cat genes I suppose, but he never really stayed out for long and would always come home after a few hours of wandering about. However, we noticed that he stayed away from home more often and for longer periods after our old cat died. Sometimes, he wouldn’t come home for a few days and we would worry.

And, when he did come home, he would bore fresh wounds and lacerations from what looked like bites from a cat fight (or dog, perhaps) that needed urgent medical attention. He always picked the best times though! I don’t know how many times he had come home in such terrible condition when I’m about to travel. At one time, he was fighting for his life and it happened the night before our wedding! His timing was always impeccable.

Ah-Max was a free-spirited cat. He was the “samseng” (gangster) in the cats’ world. He did whatever he liked and he would drive us nuts with his loud, crazy meows when he got cooped up at home for too long. Sometimes he didn’t come home for weeks, and when he finally showed up, he would have scored himself a new swanky collar. Somebody else had put a claim on him it seemed!

And, every time we took the collar off (how dare they! Ah-Max was OUR cat. My cat!), he would get a new one every single time he came back to our home. Months later, my parents discovered from one of our neighbours that Ah-Max was pretty well-known in our neighbourhood.

They said that he was such a friendly cat and would drop by their homes every now and then, staying over for a few days if it suited his fancy. Apparently, he got a few favourite homes within the same apartment building, but we never figured out who they all were. It seemed like Ah-Max did his round of PR pretty well with fellow humans!

With other cats, especially dogs – not so much! There was this one monster cat who used to wait on him and pick a fight every time. Things would get ugly and we would never see Ah-Max for at least a week before he appeared right on our doorstep with more wounds. I caught sight of Ah-Max once, from a distance,  in a cat-fight when I was on my way home. It was ugly and he went all out! Albeit a shriveled and grape-sized testicles (he was neutered), this cat had got some balls!

With humans though, Ah-Max was like the model cat, and, we saw a totally different side of him.

I wish I knew what exactly he was up to when he stayed away from home. Yes, I worry. Yes, I was concerned if he was abused. Yes, I wondered what type of homes he had been to and how he may have added years into someone else’s life. He was definitely street-wise..and with a lot of love to give, spreading his unconditional love for humans in the way he only knew how.

We may have “lost” him to someone else temporarily, yet at the same time, I realised that he had taught us more than we bargained for. He stood his ground when things got nasty. He stood up for himself when there was no one to defend him. He (literally!) licked his own wounds and in his own way, taught us the art of letting go.

He may be exhausted and battered from all that fights we didn’t know about, yet, he was tough enough to surrender and allow us to take care of him, in full vulnerability.

In the grander scheme of things, what I found out was that no matter what, he always found his way back into our home and our hearts, for he knew that there’s always this place he could called home.

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April 20, 2015

#Writing 101: Size Matters

Today’s Prompt: Where did you live when you were 12 years old? Which town, city, and country? Pay attention to your sentence lengths and use short, medium, and long sentences.

I still remember the address.  It feels like a lifetime ago, being 12 and all, living on the 1st floor of a 10-storey apartment building on the west side of Singapore, located right in front of a car park, surrounded by trees, amenities …and oh! more apartment buildings around the area.

The nearest bus-stops were only less than 2 minutes away. You walk forward, there was (and still is) the bus-stop. You walk around the building at the other end, another bus-stop. You walk to the left, yet another bus-stop. Walk for another 8 minutes and there was (still is!) the MRT station which you could take to get to anywhere in Singapore.

A walking distance away stood a satellite shopping mall, several coffee shops, Mc Donald’s, KFC, polyclinic and private clinic, banks, several schools, a public swimming pool, a large area of garden with playgrounds and tracks for jogging,cycling or idling around as well as a bus interchange. It was the perfect place to live.

Bukit Batok  (literally translated as Cough’s Hill) West was the place I grew up in since I was about 7 or 8 years old. It was the first home my parents ever owned. I remember walking along the pathway of an expressway connecting to another town called Jurong East very early in the morning with my mom and my brother, daily, because she had to drop us off to our baby sitter before she went to work.  It was still dark and quiet.

And, I still remember walking to and from school by that very bridge every day for a couple of years when I was old enough to go to school by myself.  I could have taken the public bus to school, but often, the bus was always unpredictable and if it ever came, it was so full that no one could actually get in. Walking was the best option. I mostly walked alone.

We lived in a 4 bedroom apartment consisting of a large kitchen with a separate balcony attached to it, 1 living room, 1 dining area , 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. All in all, about 106 square meters, decked out in parquet flooring. It wasn’t huge or anything. Just about enough to house 4 humans and 2 cats. However, if compared to today’s standard of a 4-room flat, it was actually quite spacious!

My brother and I had the luxury of having our own rooms since we were young.  We were spoilt that way! The cats, also spoiled brats, were free to roam in and out of the house, sometimes,choosing to either leave from the front window and snuck in through the balcony or vice versa.

There, right behind our balcony, stood a lime-tree garden. We sometimes pluck off the fresh limes from there – although it was an offence to do so! The garden was also the cats’ favourite place to hide and hunt for birds, and one of my old cats usually leave little presents of a squeaking half-dead bird underneath my bed while I was sleeping!

Oh! So much memories! And how we loved our Bukit Batok home!

Unfortunately, my parents…errr my Dad,  made the decision for all of us to move when I was about 21 years old. I was quite fresh out of school and barely started my first job. I still feel gutted whenever I think about it. It was THE perfect home. Homely, cosy and…just well, perfect. I spent many hours in my room either reading, or on my bed day-dreaming and watching people from my window because if I look hard enough, I can actually look into other people’s home!

The walls. Those walls! They were the ones I crashed into when I was learning how to ride a bicycle, leaving my bicycle frame dented and bent. My bike lights broken.

I haven’t set foot in that neighbourhood since we moved out. And today, because of this assignment,  I decided to look it up on Google Street view. I zoomed in and out of the surrounding area and I was taken back to the familiarity of the area from many moons ago.

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Sure! Somethings have changed. For one, the colours of the buildings are different, and  there seemed to be a lot more amenities there – with a child care centre, covered walkways and floor-to-floor elevator. Things which weren’t there eons ago.

In fact, when we first moved in, the neighbourhood was a ghost town. There was absolutely nothing there. The nights were quiet, the roads deserted. We were one of the first few tenants to move into that neighbourhood, and my parents and I spent many an evening walking around the neighbourhood for a stroll; not a soul in sight for hours on end!

Gone were those days. I still miss that home sorely and  I wonder if the owner who bought over our home is still the same.

One of these days, I’ll just have take a walk down memory lane. Even if for just nostalgic reasons.

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April 19, 2015

Sunday Humour: An Ode to All Mothers

Category: Entertainment
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Source: Google Image

 

Aren’t we all? And I speak for myself on this one.

I mean, how else could I explain my action when I picked up whole scoop of newly bought ice-cream off the floor when Spud had accidentally toppled over from her cone?  I swear I did it purely out of reflex!

Spud was devastated. Her face, aghast, clearly upset that she dropped it. Squirt was never going to share his and I was not going to buy her another one as a replacement.

So what’s a mother to do?  Within 0.58 seconds,  I picked the fallen scoop off the relatively clean-looking floor with my bare hands, scrutinized it, used a wet-wipe to hack off the bits where it had fallen off, gave it a lick all around (yes, me..I sacrificed myself…yeah! I know, eeeewwwww!), and placed it back on her empty cone.

She was good to go. (and I pretended that no one saw me)

My logic: If there were any germs, they would be in my stomach first. 3 days later, neither Spud nor me showed any signs of stomachache.  We were good.

Gotta love wet-wipes.

Just don’t try this at home.

#Everydaymomlinkup

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