Wednesday, October 12, 2011

She's Wicked (But Love Is A Healer)


See the black & white version of 'Wicked' on 'Camera Ni Cabrera'.

Way back in August when I first heard through the bathroom window of our apartment what seems to be a crying kitten and sure enough, when I looked at the window, I saw a little black kitten looking back at me and it seemed to be asking for food. The kitten has no way of getting out from a cave-like basement storeroom because the door of that small space which is under the staircase of our building is always locked, so it must have been born there and  neither have any interactions with other kittens nor people (aside from hearing them while they go up and down the stairs). It was basically a 'cave kitten'.

After a few weeks, my friend and I decided to rescue the kitten by climbing over the door (it has a wide open space above it where you could climb to get to the other side). When my friend got there, he just couldn't find the kitten because it was dark and the room was full of clutters. There is also a small door that leads to an open space which is the back of our bathroom where I first saw the kitten; he can't find it there either. And so we decided to stop the search and call it a day. The cat was just too scared to show itself. 

From that day on, for it to be able to survive, everyday we give the kitten water and cat food placed inside a loose plastic bag, by way of the small (bigger than a fist size) hole at the side of the stairs. We've been doing that for weeks, until the caretaker of the building called and said that he had found the key to the small room. That evening we decided to give it a second try and search for it again.

A few minutes after we opened the door, the terrified kitten just leaped out of nowhere and ran frantically  without direction until I cornered it by the door of my neighbor. I can't even touch the kitten for it was so fierce and I was scared that it might scratch my hands. I asked my friend to get me the rag and I used it to cover the entire body of the kitten so that it doesn't scratch me and then I quickly took it to my apartment.

For three days I can't even touch the cat. I have to feed it cautiously and quietly or else it might freak out, but then as the days passed, the kitten learned to trust me eventually. While feeding it, I always sneak my other hand towards its back and gently pet it. It was during that time also that I realized that it's a she and I thought it's also appropriate to give her a name. Since she's entirely black and fierce, I thought why not call her 'Wicked', like the witch in The Wizard of Oz.

Now I think she's already settled-in in my apartment with 8 other similarly curious cats and two weird-looking people (at least in her perspective). What can I say? There's nothing in this world that love can't change. She's Wicked, but love is a healer. Thank you Lord Jesus that we were able to save her. The only question now is, how long can we keep it up with them? They will not be kittens forever, you know, not to mention that their subsistence costs dwarf that of our own (green peas thankfully make us get by, lol). I know it's sad and heartbreaking but one of these days, some of them will have to go. We simply can't handle them all. So sad really.


Our daily routine with all 9 of them (cats)!





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