I know neighbor across the street has cat; three cats in fact. Two males and one female. She named three of them with local singer celebrity names from her island. She is from the Moluccas, and like many from her island, she is seclusive and almost never socialize except with her own kind. Bandung people still lives in the 1800 with its social prejudice against people of other races, ethnicity, religions or colors.
I was new to the area then; I just got out after spending a month in hospital, and thirty cats were too much of a boarding room, besides, the doctor told me to find a place where I can cook my own clean food (instead of eating in the stall above sewer lines by the road) and rest without the disturbance of neighboring renters.
I did try to say hi, and she did know that I have several cats, but hers is a long hair cats, mine is a village cats. Her cats has more value than mine, so beyond returning the smile she won’t even let me touch her cats, not even cross the road to be friends.
The female cat’s name is Michelle. One day, she just stopped going out from the house, and after a few months, came out again skin and bone. She said Michelle has been sick.
It was also the time when Michelle start to run away from her house and always end up in front of mine.
I always pick her up and cross the street, knocking the door because my next door neighbor was a bully family who abuse everyone and everything, and I don’t like anything to happen to her, but my neighbor just never answer the door.
So I come back to my house and keep Michelle inside until she came home and calling for he and I will let the cat go. She didn’t say thank you, she didn’t even look at my face.
But everyone has their own struggle, and she seemed to have a lot, so I don’t want to add anything to the boulder on her shoulder.
One time, Michelle went to my house again so sick, I smuggled her inside the carrier and brought her with taxi to see the vet. I knew I won’t be appreciated, but I don’t care about the human, I feel sorry for the cat. She is all right for three days under my care, but one day she crossed the street to go home, so I don’t know what happened to her because her owner never let her out again.
I just think, at that time, if Michelle were mine, I would give this food and that supplement to help her with her prolonged URI. I would clean her beautiful calico coat with this shampoo and put vitamin E and coconut oil to help her fur. I will do whatever in my capability because I believe she can recover completely, she just need extra care and attention that her owner was not able to give at that time.
One year later, I moved away, so Michelle can only be in my prayers.
And then, when I went into that newly opened pet shop to check on those gorgeous cat towers, I had to stop short right by the cashier because there was Michelle right there, under the leg of the counter.
I had to go down on my knee, I had to touch her, I had to call her, although only in a whisper.
It couldn’t be her. The way she looked at me was different, but five years had passed then.
The manager of the pet shop told me she was a stray, she was one of the many cats people dumped in that dying building material shop. He said she has been visiting the shop every now and then, and that sometimes one of the staffs or the other would buy her a pouch and feed her outside.
That’s what I did. I bought twenty five Dollars grain free, good food, and feed her outside.
The manager followed me and asked if I know a charity vet who can check on her infected wound on one of her leg.
I went in and bought twenty Dollars brand new carrier and tell the manager I will handle it.
It was an untreated, thus infected bite wound that got worse because she keeps walking with it, but she is all right after antibiotics and some stitches and spay.
Come to the day I planned to take her back to the shop, she had fever. It won’t come down for two days, and at the end of those two days, it turned out that she has Calicivirus.
She laid there dying for two weeks, hanging on strong antibiotics, a bottle of ringer a day, drops of spirulina and honey mixed with water every hour, day and night, skin and bone.
One breath after another.
I didn’t hope much, but back then, I said that if Michelle was mine, I would do what I can because I believe she will recover; she just need extra care and treatment and I will afford it with all my life.
After two weeks, I didn’t call her “girl” anymore. I call her Michelle.
And the first day she sat by herself I call out to God. The first day she can stand, though wobbly and weak, I call out to God, the first day she can jump down from the bed, one month later, I call out to God.
The first day she walked on her own out of my room and drink, I call out to God.
And I call her out Michelle.
The manager of the shop told me that she did have that tendency to have cold every now and then, but the shop can do nothing about it because she is stray. Well, some pet shop opens because the owner likes animals, some other open because it’s good business.
The manager said that if possible, he would rather Michelle stayed with me, because then she will have someone to take care of her if she got her cold again.
So I went home and see her poking her head from atop the kitchen hood, where she loves to hang out.
I just think, at that time, if Michelle were mine, I would give this food and that supplement to help her with her prolonged URI. I would clean her beautiful calico coat with this shampoo and put vitamin E and coconut oil to help her fur. I will do whatever in my capability because I believe she can recover completely, she just need extra care and attention.
Michelle is mine.
So I would give this food and that supplement to help her with her prolonged URI. I would clean her beautiful calico coat with this shampoo and put vitamin E and coconut oil to help her fur. I will do whatever in my capability because I believe she can recover completely, she just need extra care and attention.