There are more cats than usual in the park tonight. Whether it’s full moon or the air is nice. Maybe my timing is just perfect.
For one, I didn’t come to stay too long. My ankle have just recovered and it’s still painful when I walked too far or stand too long, especially with two dozen Whiskas pouches and uneven pavement in the dark road.
The plan was trying to get Shy Tortie before she comes to heat again, since I got her babies, feed as much as I can and go home to rest because I have been standing on the job the whole day.
Still, people calls me to show one more poorly and hungry cat under their stall or between their plants and flowers.
I enjoy it not because I look like some sort of celebrities walking on that red paved pedestrian with a smile among rows of people with big grins. I enjoy it because although I become some sort of entertainment for some of them, some other really do sincerely trying to help. I won’t see them going half the length of what I do; they probably won’t even feed them daily, but at least they are not harming the cats.
On the very end of that line of cheering fans, is a young man holding a cellphone in one hand and a little golden kitten in the other; blocking my way.
“This one please, this one” He was talking to me while staring at his cellphone while trying to tilt it to the left or right.
He is one of a group of gamers who gathers at the park every night, save exam weeks, to play with his friends.
No one is offended (anymore) when they talk without looking at the other person. Of course they should have paused their game and speak properly, but if one play the game as a group and paused, the whole team must pause, and the whole bunch of other people at the other side whom they played against have to pause as well. It’s common rules of the game and it’s no difference whether they are playing in the Olympics or World of Warcraft.
If one or two elders bad mouth them, with all due respect to the good old tradition which I truly agree and practice, I will join the other and calm them down saying “At least they don’t do drug, they don’t do thug, they don’t do punk (punk is negative here, they usually extort money from people by surrounding them and screaming on their ears) they do not leave school, and they find money for their gaming by themselves selling merchandise on holidays”
Some are online riders, like Uber. I know so because some got my orders in the past.
In my case I appreciate he takes the time to watch out for the baby kitten and look out for me even in the middle of his gaming.
The baby kitten in his hand doesn’t move, doesn’t cry, just hanging in there in silence.
I took the silent baby kitten from his hand. He is staring at an adult tortie eating nearby, and tried to struggle for one second, then fell silent again.
I thought it was his mother, so I put him by her side and he rushed in to chow.
The tortie cat doesn’t cast him away, but she doesn’t want him to eat her share either. She is trying to block the baby from eating too much with her body.
So the baby sat by her side, in silence, waiting for generous leftover.
“It’s not hers, it’s not hers” the gamer said, glancing, and back to his cellphone.
I need to learn how to split my brain like this man, I would definitely jinx one of my own friends talking while playing.
I set the kitten aside, open him a pouch, and step aside. He walks toward his food in silence, he eats in silence.
After he finished eating, he sat there, in silence.
One more time, instead of going by the plan and home soon, I end up carrying the baby to every female cat I meet and show him to see if someone lost her child.
At all time, the baby is silent. He doesn’t struggle, he doesn’t jump, he doesn’t cry. He dangle in my arm like a ragdoll.
When all the park is scaled and searched, I put him in my bag.
He just sit there in silence, looking at me, and lay down.
We ride home in silence.
He blends with the other in silence. He sat far behind the other in silence, waiting for generous leftover, he knows his place, he knows his size, he knows his chances. He is wise.
I would lift him up and give him his own plate among the others, and he will eat in silence.
He plays chase with the others in silence. He rolls over and wrestle in silence, he enjoys Cali’s hug in silence.
He follows me inside my room every night in silence, slip under my blanket in silence, curls away to sleep in silence.
The only time he meows, just once, is when I won’t give him his milk even after he stand on his two hind legs reaching out for his favorite time of the day.
The second time I do that again to him, he just sit there staring at the bowl in silence; looking at me.
Silence is golden.