Today it was mostly trying to survive 34℃ heat wave. I was just a puddle and since there was only one fan my son and I took turns at dunking our heads in a cold shower or having some hot air blowing around. Reason for sharing is the portable air-con unit blew up. Yip, literally blew up. Well, us older folks don’t quite blow up, conversely, we deflate and become a puddle of sweat and exhaustion.
Two rescued feral kitties call my home their home. Birdie, a tabby, was rescued from living in storm drains at a shopping mall and the other one, Fluffy, a grey & white tuxie, was rescued a few years later from a life on rooftops. It took a long time to socialise them, never mind getting to the point where the first rescue, Birdie, would accept the second rescue, Fluffy. Unfortunately, the two boys can’t take off their fur coats during a heat wave. I did consider dunking them in a cold bath or convincing them to share a cold shower with my son, but the idea of the bloodbath that would entail – obviously mostly our blood -somewhat dampened my enthusiasm to assist them in their hour of need. So, we just suffered and puddled together.
Birdie and Fluffy are allowed outside from 7AM to 7PM. This protocol is never broken. Mosquito mesh covers open windows and closed security gates front and back keeps us all safe inside.
BUT NOT TODAY!
The heat must have addled my son’s brain. Ettienne thought he had locked the front security gate, but upon inspection his key was still in the lock and the gate was partially open. I think my brain was fried too as I did not double check for locked security gates.
FERAL KITTIES ARE MISSING!
Oh dear. Panic stations and then resignation. We would just have to wait for the two explorers to find their way home. I kept an ear out for cat fights knowing my ex-ferals do like a good old scrapping. Seems they were on their best behaviour and in stealth mode as not a peep from any kitty; just the dark of night and worry. My son goes to sleep at midnight and I stay awake waiting for my feral kids to come home.
FLUFFY COMES HOME
Fast forward to 2:50 AM and in trots Fluffy straight to food bowl and a slurping of water from the running tap. Both ferals prefer drinking running water. Must be from their roaming days, not trusting any ‘standing’ water. Clever! I lock him in my bedroom. Then try as quietly as I can calling Birdie. No answer. So, close the front door and let the now frantic feral who does not like to be locked away out of the room. In case you are wondering: I don’t waste water by having an open tap all the time. Fluffy always asks when he want me to turn on the tap. Sometimes he just messes with me and does not drink, just sits in the bath laughing at me.
BIRDIE COMES HOME
Ah, movement at the back glass doors. “Hi Birdie, long time no see.” In toddles an unrepentant explorer; little primordial pouch gently swinging from side to side as he makes a beeline to his food bowl. Wandering around for just under eight hours gives a man an appetite. This little guy is my shadow and often times my confidant. He listens intently while I ramble on and then gives a slow blink of understanding. Very comforting old chap.
No, they have not yet told me what they were up to. I’ll have a chat with the two boys tomorrow, actually later today. Long past my bedtime, even for the night owl that I am.
Please God, let tomorrow be cooler. If not then I’m going to spend the day sitting in ice water in the bath tub.Recommend0 recommendationsPublished in