Mobsters for Hire

We have a new baby at the shelter

Please say hello to Miso 💚

We haven’t heard her full story yet, but do know she was rescued in the nick of time from the middle of the road, so are very thankful she’s safe.

If you can help out with a donation, or by keeping us in your thoughts/prayers, we would be very grateful.




The good news is, there is nothing broken. No bone cracked, no muscle snapped.

The good news is, there is no brain damage.

The good news is, while yesterday he can only open one eye, today he can open both. He still walks in an angle, but his steps are firmer than before. He still tilts his head, he still looks sick, but he starts to cope with his current condition, and lives with it as part of his new world.

No one said, it’s a better new world. No one promised a life happily ever after. Further examination by a vet surgeon replays the horror. He was hit on the head, flew several meters away, left untouched to die. He had to endure extreme pain, creeping hunger and choking thirst.

Choking thirst that drove him to drag himself, even half inch after another, to find some water.

The only he found was a dirty sewer; and there he went, half drowned because he cannot move, until he was found.

We are given yet another set of treatments. Supplements changed, stronger medicines given, still, there is possibility that he will walk in a slight angle, and tilt his head for the remaining of his life. We will continue to do the best and hoping for the utmost, but we are ready and willing to give him his retirement home, should he become disabled.

The good news is, he is a tough guy; or maybe stupid one. He only knows how to live, he only knows how to stay alive.

The good news is, whatever empowered him to stay alive, is now empowering him to keep on trying. As of today, he can lick the blendered food we prepare for him, and he ate with no wobble.

The good news is, he is not alone. He can be sure that we will walk beside him, run beside him, live beside him. He can be sure that we will provide all that he needs to survive his trial, and triumph in his tribulation.

All the mean and the ignorant, the naysayers who said we are scam, that we will not make it; lines of veterinarians who cautiously warn us not to hope too much, will see us standing tall and keep going.

Alone, we are nothing. Together we are The Whiskers’ Syndicate. We will prevail.



Rain had washed the hillside just before dawn; and rain washed our hillside one more time just before the sunrise.

Upon the first ray of light our hopes rise; upon our first step, our latest rescue comes to mind.

Among many friends and new family, he curls on the heating pad; his face bunched on top of the other, as others’ on top of his.

It was a peaceful face, slumbered in comfort, warmth, acceptance. He knew he’s home.

It’s not as peaceful when we start making breakfast, for the twenty kittens aside of him and another seventy in the cattery, weaving to each other, mounting defense against the cold morning.

We had a long, loud meows and demanding head bumps we never knew.

It was him; it was our new boy. He walked by himself like a drunken man from his chosen spot, to the kitchen and made commotion, but we were all smiles because he stood upright regardless.

He eagerly scrambled for food and tried just as hard to quench his thirst, kill his hunger when a plate of freshly boiled ground chicken landed on the floor.

Alas, there was so much pain everytime he moved his jaw, there was no less of pain when he tried to chew.

Like the first moment he came into our kitchen, he looked up to us, and made just as much commotion.

He got warm broth and supplements; he got kitty milk and vitamins, he got head rub and pats and praises.

After a bowl full of recharge he walked back, still like a drunk, left and right to his pad, but he stand upright none the less. One of his eyes was opened.

Every one or two ours we will have our fire truck blasting on our ears, but we are all smiles because he is getting better.

By the afternoon he starts cleaning himself, though for the rest of the day he sleeps like a rock under the sun and the noon.

When we rode him to the vet, however, rain washed the hillside one more time, stronger than ever. With wind on its side, with thunder and lightning.

We hid alongside our motorcycle and waited for the darkness to pass; still a few minutes after it stopped, just a little while after we start riding, it came back and blew us away as fiercely as before.

We wanted him to be checked, but more than that we want him to recover. We don’t want him to be more sick. We weighed the danger if we continue to ride under the storm all the way to the other end of town, and decided to ride back home.

Our kitty ambulance vet, who comes over one more time, told us he is making a lot of progress; that he is no longer dehydrated, he is no longer in too much pain. She told us the antibiotics is working, and the food we mixed and blendered for him gives him strength and power on his way to healing.

We are given a new set of treatment for him, so that he can keep his record achievement.

We will give him a new try and ride him to the surgeon tomorrow, just to be sure.

We thank everyone who is rooting on us, and may all the trolls who took our boy’s struggle to promote prejudice and ignorance, reap what they sow.

We hope you will rise with us tomorrow. We hope you ride with us to deliver our boy into recovery.

~ Josie


He was victim of hit and run. A car ran over him and he was left to die. A girl found him with bleeding mouth in the sewer and brought him home to her parents house.

She was newly married, and will soon follow her husband to a far away town, next Sunday. Her parents cannot take another cat because they already keep other cats – all rescued – and they have to take care of paraplegic grandparents.

She sent me message through Instagram explaining her situation, and asking for help. I am home alone and I do not have a vehicle to go all the way across town today, so I will have to trust her and give her our address so she can drive the cat to us.

She rode for an hour with a friend holding the cat in a basket to our place. While I tried to give as much care as possible to the half dead cat, I let them hang around the cattery and play with our mobsters.

He was severely dehydrated. So dry his skin stuck together when I pinched it. The blood in his mouth had dried, but he cannot open his jaw. He hummed in pain instead of meowing. We had to modify a syringe to put drops of kitty milk and spirulina, which gratefully he can swallow.

I gave him subcu, I put him on a heating pad, I gave him booster. It is a public holiday today, so no vet is available. We can only do our best to sustain him and help him hold himself together for the remaining of the day.

One by one, other mobsters come close to him and sniff him, as he lay there on the heater, still half dead. Remember the boy with scabies a few days ago? He is clean now and is waiting for his fur to come back. He sat beside the injured cat and lay his head on the cat’s side. Flash jumped down from his perch and lend the cat his warmth. Soon Barto squeezed in.

Slowly his face changed. From pain and fear to comfort and peace. He breathes calmly. He woke up several times and cried for us, but once one of us talk to him, he is back to sleep.

I don’t know what I will face tomorrow, when we get him to the vet; but if I can count on one thing, I know I can count on Whiskers’ Syndicate.

Please give this boy a chance. He clung to life despite the pain, grief and terror, long enough for his rescuer to find him, and although he doesn’t have to, he clings to life just a little bit stronger, hopefully long enough until we can get him the proper help he needs.

Please give this boy a hope. He never lost his trust to us Samaritans, and it’s about time we overturned his misfortune with blessings and abundance.

Please let this boy live.

~ Josie



I would imagine that, once upon a day, he was scooped up, with or without his mother, when he was sitting around alone, or with a sibling, or playing quietly a few steps away from that tiny space he called his world.

I would imagine that, he was thrown into a box, or slammed into a bag, or whatever, and was taken away along Bandung’s bumpy roads, that must have felt like the whole universe for him.

I would imagine that, he flew for a few seconds before landing in a pile of trash, or even the hard, hot, or wet, smelly, dirty asphalt or concrete of the parking lot. Maybe even, a shallow sewer.

I would imagine that he’d stay there for a while, feeling lost in a completely foreign world, among the universe of ignorant stomping giants.

Maybe; maybe he was born there, to a mother who roams around that traditional market.

Maybe, as best as his mother tries to care for him, she has to leave him alone more and more often, for food further and further away.

Maybe, curiosity got the best of him, and he ventured away just a few steps too far.

But for sure, he was there, in the middle of that damp and smelly walkway in the market, sniffing bits to answer the call of his hunger.

Someone was walking in a hurry, but just a few steps away, saw him, and suddenly slowed down.

I had hoped that the someone would just step around, or step over, he is just six weeks old, he is not as big as a mango. I was so glad that there is still good in humanity, though in the form of ignorance.

That someone continue walking, eye fixated to the tiny lump in front, and kick him.

He flew, and crash land a short meter away, on the hard concrete floor filled with dirt and rainwater dragged around by people’s steps.

I was a fallen angel. I was eager to crash land my foot on that arse-hole’s face, but Sheilla choose the other way and came running to the baby cat.

She took the baby, put him in her jacket, and brought him home.

We cleaned him, we keep him warm, we feed him as best as we could. He was only two ounces, and less than twenty centimeters long. We can pick him up with only two fingers around his skinny belly.

In the first few days, he just stayed on the heater. He come to us when he is hungry, he slept alone in the corner. He cannot walk straight, and there were times we were worried that he injured his brain.

One week later he wanders around and play with others.

This afternoon, when we were sucked deep into our work, he ran his tiny shortie legs across a hundred square meters that is our cattery back and forth.

He follows Lucky and climb the kitchen counter to pick his own food. He scale the laundry basket and roar like a lion king from the top of the clothes dryer.

He runs beside our rabbit with confidence and pride, even though his competitor is four times his size.

He has courage as big as the universe.

His name is Black Pepper, and he never takes no for an answer.

~ Josie



The message read:

Dear Whiskers’ Syndicate,

Are you by any chance still taking in strays?

I have a litter of kitties with their mom.
I was helping out my neighbors because the mom gave birth to them in their house and really didn’t want them there.

Now I’ve kept them in mine for over 1 month, but I don’t think I can afford to give them a forever home. My house is a shared one (kostan) and I can only keep them in the laundry-hanging area (where birds are also kept) because it’s upstairs where they wouldn’t disturb other residents and to keep them from other strays.

I only let them stay here while I go from home in the morning and come back in the evening. I’ve never really cleaned them and no one else looked after them. I provided them with dry food only recently. They’re not weaned yet. Same goes with the litter box.

There are 5 kittens and everyone has a name. Females Banban, Biggy, and Kukung, males Bubun and Chocho. They’re very sweet and playful. I think now they’re around 7-8 weeks old.

Please let me know if they could fit into your place or if someone kind is willing to take them in and care for them. And thank you in advance.

I know the area where those cats lives. It was a labyrinth of alleys that I never manage to memorize completely. People there are not poor, but most are ignorant idiots. In one of those alleys is two fields tennis court. I got lost in those mazes several times, and once I stumbled upon a street old cat being used as a tennis-serve practice target by a bunch of kids; one of them rode a BMW. A few years later, someone who refused to give his name keep sending us message demanding us to take stray kittens that he didn’t want on his porch, but insisted that he is the one who send the cats to the shelter. I told him quite frankly that I don’t want people to take me for granted and drop whatever kittens and cats they don’t want and broadcast to the whole town where we live to be a dumping ground of unwanted animals.

In short, I don’t like that place and its rotten people; and I am sure if they have a choice, no street cats want to live there.

But an innocent street cat mother found a little good luck to try and raise a family, though she has no luck even just for a little corner to stay.

She found a little good luck in the neighbor who lend her space, though once more no luck weaving a life.

And then all her pain in delivering her babies will be in vain. Then all her effort to keep her babies alive and healthy will be in vain. All her hard work in raising such healthy and happy kittens, will be in vain.

So I thought I’d found her a little good luck, in the corner of the cattery. I thought I’d give her a little good luck, in keeping her family. I thought I’d give her a chance.

It’s a tad bit cramped where she is, but little good luck has it that she’ll be away from the rain and the wind. It’s a tad bit tight on food rations, but a little good luck has it that she can at least eat regularly and properly.

It’s not a fancy house, but with a little good luck, I will spay her and with a little more good luck, she wouldn’t have to go back to the street eating garbage.

Would you share your little good luck so we can buy her kitty milk? She ran out early while her babies are still the size of the palm of the hand.

Would you share your little good luck so we can provide her and her family with proper treatments for fungus infestation and upper respiratory infection?

But first and foremost, would you share your little good luck for a few pouches of food, that she can have the chance to live healthy and happy?

~ Josie

The two first pictures were given by the lady who kept them, and the two last ones are the little family as they settling in.