a cranky bitch called keeno

dad took her in one wet and cold night four aprils ago. we were still saddened by the loss of meeko, a stray wild cat we brought home from desaru. she was this pathetic looking kitten then, with scabs and crusts on her eyes, mucus oozing out her fuji apple colored nose, and a bloated worm-filled stomach. we didn’t feel any love for this poor creature at first. small, fragile and frightened but somewhat secure in the palm of my dad’s coarse hand.



honestly, my first thought was.. “pa, why the hell did you take this thing in? its so sick and ugly” but i overcame that feeling as soon as held her in my hand. “people were kicking her around at the restaurant. i didn’t have the heart. i just have to save her.” my dad said. ever the hero.



so we took her in, took care of her. i fed her baby milk formula through syringes, till her poor little stomach bloated up like a balloon in a funfair. we planned to just let nature take its course. she didn’t look like she was going to survive anyway. she didnt pooped or peed for a week. suddenly, out of the blue, like an innate habit, she waddled into the toilet on those tiny paws, and legs only about 2 inches long each. she took a dump. the poise on that kitten tugged all our heart strings.



so, the next day, we decided to give her a name because at the vets, they needed a name for the record. in a brief brainstorming session out at our front porch, she was named keeno. it was either that, or nokia. so, we took her to the vet and told the doctor that we’ve been feeding her with 2 part dumex, 5 parts water. “ahhh. no wonder she looks like she’s about to burst her innards.” the vet diagnosed. so after vaccination, de-worming and de-fleaing, we took her home with an can of expensive milk formula for kittens and eye drops and ointments.



i was in the midst of my “not worthy of love, i want to kill myself but i cant find enough sleeping pill that would do the work” phase. i was jobless, by choice. everyday i'd wake up at 1pm to watch oprah and then proceed to watch more tv till i go back to bed and repeat it the next day for about 5 months. but she gave me a purpose. she gave me a reason to wake up - usually every 2 hours to feed and play with her. she gave me a feeling that everything's gonna be alright. she made me think that i am worthy of love afterall.



eventhough she’s very sickly, she still is, she’s got an abundance of energy. one might think that we fed her with one part milk and 4 parts redbull. she’s a friendly neighborhood cat. she roams around the house and into other people’s houses and comes home smelling like a womanizer. she likes to brush up on stranger’s legs, roll around in the dirt, showing off her pink belly. she likes to ride on people’s shoulders. she likes high ground. whenever we’re busy doing chores, she’d jump on a table or the sofa or at the window sill to supervise the work. for a shorthair cat who was born in a mamak stall, she's got a pomposity of a pedigree persian. she likes to follow dad everywhere. when he’s in the toilet, she’ll wait by the door till sometimes, she falls asleep.



she poops and pees in the sink. don’t ask who picks up and flushes after her. she’s a picky eater but she eats a lot of funny food - like paraffin palettes. but nowadays, she only eats science plan. she loves jumping into empty crates and boxes and baskets. she sleeps in a nest she makes from of a beanbag. usually stomps and circles her spot before she sleeps. like a dog. and tells people to get off it if she wants to sleep. she checks on me, meowing of concern if im in pain.



she doesn’t like me much, though. i don’t know why. ungrateful. maybe its because im more attentive to chika than her. still, ungrateful. she’s one of the most inquisitive, busy bodied, meow-ative, fussy cats i’ve ever come across. She can be quite a bitch sometimes but im glad dad brought her home. i owe her my life … in a way.