I wonder what I should name him. He is an imp.

He started his life very badly. Most cats who started life very badly have more somber personality. However, it seems like he is large. He has a big heart, he didn’t keep things inside like me, he moved on and embrace life.

He lives like nothing happened. He has URI; from bacteria. His mother, if he ever known one, couldn’t help. As soon as he can eat on his own, he was sacked; literally. He was roughly picked up and put into a rice sack with three others; and then motorcycled uphill.

All four of them, wouldn’t have known what happened. They just know they fell to hard surface, and then roll and roll for eternity.

From the other side of their world. I saw them. Two men with motorcycle. I know one of them, local motorbike taxi and an old time jerk. I pull out my phone and snap their picture. The old jerk saw me recording, he went panic, and shouted to his friend, who ignored him. I can see the other man’s face as he hurl the sack of kittens down a sand pit. It was most disgusting.

When they were gone, I crossed the street, and looked down. Chill crept my spine, I had phobia for high places, from a long past event; but I look.

Four kittens.

I pocketed my phone and climbing down. I am not sure if I will ever climb out, but it’s still a bright day.

He was the furthest from where I land, and the most difficult to fetch. He didn’t run then, he just looked at me with a sad eyes and a black patch under his eyes; from his URI.

But I got him. I put him inside my jacket, like the other, and start climbing. A sand pit three storeys high.

Though they rally at first, only he survived; and even then, his URI keeps coming back. Two weeks antibiotics, cleared out for one week, and then it will come back.

He stays in the nebulizer half an hour every morning; for months.

When he finally cleared out for the last time, I keep his nebulizer for one more week. I keep his medicine for another two weeks, I keep his supplement, I don’t wean him his treatment for at least one more week, two at most.

And only then he started cleaning. Cleaning his blackened foot from wiping snots for three months, cleaning his blackened nose, cleaning his blackened face.

All of those fur fell off. See picture. He looks like a monkey.
I had this idea of calling him Felimon. Feline Monkey. Because he behaves like one himself; no, really.

But a few days apart, I read a news about a yellow tabby kitten, a community cat, slipped into a kitchen of a motel up north in England, was caught by the mighty chef who sacked the little boy and beaten him to death.

The hotel first said “humanely euthanized for health problem” but the story didn’t add up. The chef is fired, but the life is gone, the rot exposed, the trust damaged. The little boy’s name is Cali, said his caretaker.

So I call him Cali, in the hope that he will carry the life of his namesake and brought it to better future; like California, where the sun shine, bright like his fur, light, rich, and free, like his heart. Like the gold mine, where he went, hurling in the sack, got up, and back to life undimmed. Precious.

And all of his strength, all of his tenacity, resilience, love of life, spirit; shine through because of you. Had you not help us reach the fund raising goal every week, there will not be enough medicine to treat him and bring him through his prolonged infection. Had you not chip in on his life, over and again, there will not be enough to buy the good food to fuel his resistance. Had you not reach into your pocket deeper, had you not join our auction, had you not sold your arts, or crafts, or unused items to our benefit; had you not send us supplements, and vitamins, and amino acids, none of those available on this land, he would have had no chance.

And so at the true beginning of his new life, when Cali is no longer snotty, no longer sneezy, no longer sick, know that you are important. Know that your gift made a difference, know that you save life. All the extra share, all of your devoutness to keep coming to our site, and comment, and share, kept us afloat. All of the word of mouth (or messenger, or email) keep us front and center. All of you give us chance, give us hope, give Cali life.

Life. You, are giving life.

Thank you. There cannot be enough of it, but thank you.

~ Josie.

Published by

Josie And The Whiskers' Syndicate

The first and only cat refuge in Bandung (West Java - Indonesia) a capital breeder of a nation without animal welfare law. We care for Bandung's unwanted animals, operate a TNR as much as our budget allows, and continue to educate people about compassion to animals

Leave a Reply