For Purrcy, life begins four days after his birth; taken away from the mother he hasn’t even seen, put in a crowded box, and into the cold, dumped with twelve others in a bamboo forest.

Some bet their luck and crawled outside the box, only to meet their fate eaten by rats, or succumbed to the elements.

But then for Purrcy, he was inside the box, waiting for fate, when I finally found the box; four years ago.

For Purrcy, life changes since; though he probably never know whether such change should happen, or if it’s even normal. He crumpled together with others, fed only twice a day during my break, and instead of the snuggle that he was imprinted with, he had to make a line, shouting, screaming, until his turn came and he was fed until his heart content.

But then for Purrcy, milk probably tasted all the same, and as long as it’s warm and savory, as long as his tummy rest easy, he just keep on living.

For Purrcy, days does not come easy, and it probably feels different than he thought it should be, when he opened his eyes and learned he lived in a cage. There was no mother, there was no snuggle.

But then for Purrcy, came the soft fur and gentle nudging from Kibble, who groom him as good as his real mother, who loves him as her real son.

He knew Kibble was not his mother. He knew they didn’t smell the same, he knew she was a stranger, and I am just as weird as I look different, but for Purrcy, as long as there are other kittens to wrestle with, life is life, love is love.

He just keep on living.

For Purrcy, the change of the weather never comes easy. All the sinuses and breathing difficulties that continue to plague all his life just keep coming back. When monsoon wind blows he will have his sneeze, when the sky sent its showers he will have his nasal blockages, when the sun sparks too bright, when the night is windy.

But then for Purrcy, comes this weird box that keeps spewing warm fog and if he stayed calm and inhale, he can breathe better.

It’s just that, for Purrcy, this past month is a monster. It’s cold in the morning, even colder in the night. At the darkest before dawn, it’s coldest that even when he piled up against everyone else, it’s still biting to his bone.

Is he getting old? He is strong and sturdy all the other days.

For Purrcy, then, a new heating pad where he can sleep upon the whole day. Sometimes he has to share with others, but sharing with many others has been part of his life since he can remember, and they are all his family, they are all their loves, they are all their lives. It’s so fun getting to play and chase with different cats every day and although there were those who went and never return, he has enough in the roster all year long.

In riches or rags, in health or sickness, until then, for Purrcy, death do us part.

But for Purrcy, as I sat by him, curling lifelessly on his heating pad, death is not the end.

It’s only the beginning, so I said. It’s a door unlike ours, through which we can see the other side of the room; it’s opaque curtain is only there so we won’t criss cross one way to the other, because it’s a different room; the only difference is that, once we cross there, we can’t come back.

“But for you, Purrcy”, so I said, “Once you cross you will never have to deal with those pesky nasal infection that cuts your breath in half. Once you cross there will be no cold nights that crush you to the bone, so you won’t need to scream in pain every night all so often”

For Purrcy, as he lift his head looking at me, “Really?” Well, I understand. His life is not standard all the way to day one.

It’s as if there’s this spear right under my chin, ready to pierce all the way to my head if I nod.

But for Purrcy, I nod, and I nod twice and look at him in the eye and tell him firm and sure. He will never see me cry, he will never see me crumble, he will never see the pain that pierce through my head when I nod and I nod twice and still look at him in the eye.

“For Purrcy, because he had taken all the bad throughout, now only left the good”

So for Purrcy, that opaque curtain was lifted, and he now has only all the good.

~ 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

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