SORRY NOT SORRY

It was dark and it was cold, but there was nothing the two can do. Holding each other in fear, holding each other to the thinning heartbeat, holding each other through the cold night, and the hot day, or windy through and through.

And then the door cracked, but there was nothing the two can do. Holding each other with round, fearful eyes, yet hopeful look.

I extended my hand, swift and stealthy. First the small, then the other. They are powerless; they are limp in my grasp, they are silent in my jacket.

I stood up and didn’t look back. I went down two steps on my toes, the road was empty, it was one hour into the new day, and I ran like the shadows of the leaves blown by the wind.

It was like, the trees crouched and bent their fingers to cover me in the dark; it was like, as soon as Sheilla turn on her motorbike engine, the gust of wind hush our presence, long enough until we were far gone.

We are decent persons, but we are thieves. I am; she is just an accomplice.

She is complicit when I told her about three kittens, all looking alike. Long hair,cute appearance. Like stars falling into the sky, their stray mother gave birth on the porch of that man, and he scooped them in, raising them with as little capital as possible, so he can sell them after a few months.

Free money.

After a week of bad weather, only one left. Scrawny, emaciated, sick, and dying. We no longer see his mother, we never more see his siblings.

For three nights we saw him alone, in a bedraggled cage, with broken espresso cup filled with water, and a can of dirt-cheap dry food in a biscuit can taller than twice his height.

On the open porch where he was born.

There was a part of us telling us firmly that if it is inside the property of others, it belongs to others. There is no animal welfare law in this town, there is none in this country.

But there were more part of us tugged and wrecked by his pitiful slow death.

And he was only two months old.

I stole him, and the other kitten locked with him whom we never know before, but couldn’t, wouldn’t left behind.

If I can burn myself from within, I will. If my drip of blood can quench them, I will cut myself open. There were nothing left of the two, and I fear they would end by the time we reach home.

We wrapped them in many layers of blankets, we give them warm milk and warm food, we made everyone jealous. We bathed them in the morning and that warm mountain water turned black. Deep black.

And every time our eyes meet, I told them: You are safe now, we love you.

They love us back.

And every time our way crosses, they look at us, and there will be pats on the back and a rub on their head. There will be cradle and coo, there will be kisses, and they will stand on our shoulder, cheek to cheek.

The girl is Dika (dee-cca, from Dilute Calico), and the boy is Toby.

Every morning when we pass that road where we stole them, we cannot help but peek. The cage where they kept was discarded, and the can of cat food kicked all over.

Sometimes the man who lives in that unkempt small house sees us; and we see him back, but he would never know, or if he does, sorry not sorry.

The start of their mobster life is like a movie.

Together, let’s end their lives like a fairy tale.

And they live happily ever after.

~ Josie

How it is possible to provide for a cat with cancer, a cat with concussion, a cat with liver disease, a cat recovering from fading syndrome, and now helping two kittens regain their lives? Until August 5th all donations made to The Whiskers’ Syndicate will be doubled. No limit, no “up to” Each and all that you shower toward these babies will be doubled.
That is how we change their impossible lives into I’m possible living. You can make it happen here:

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

ROMEO MUST (NOT) DIE

I thought he was born with it, but then again, after a while, I was sure someone crushed his leg and it healed badly.

With one shorter leg, he lived on that strip of pedestrian path among unkind people. Homeless, street urchins, gamblers, drunks, many kinds. There is one merchant selling tofu who let him sleep under his cart and drink from his bucket, but just about every time I went to see him after I found him, I was met with fierce and stinky eyes.

All I want is to offer him my home. The road where he lives is too big and too crowded. People are speeding up or trying to crush each other just to be few minutes ahead. The area is too dangerous. He cannot hunt and that place is the den for thieves and thugs who do not give any damn about other people’s life; what convince me they will have any mercy to a crippled street cat?

First, I have to gain his trust. He was very scared of humans.

After almost a year, he runs to me. Whenever he heard the sound of our motorcycle or the cling clang of our keys. He knows he can count on us, one meal that will make him full until the same 10 o’clock the next night.

His name is Romeo.

Three days ago, a scrawny guy came closer when I feed him. It was creepy; he was creepy. He followed me as I pour down two packets of cat food. He followed me when I walked steps away with the packaging to the rubbish bin, he followed me when I walked back to my Romeo to pat his head good night and send him prayers for safety and health. Prayers that I got him before evil does.

I sped up, sat on the motorcycle and rode off with my mate, though we both felt uneasy.

We decided to take a round, and come back, just to be sure.

When we came back, he was at the other side of a very busy five lane road, limping in confusion trying to go back home across the street.

It’s not easy even to pull over, but as soon as we did, I jumped down and ran with all my might, trying to hold him off.

He ran across the street anyway, just seconds before my hand reached him, and an expensive, shiny car drove right up, crushed him,  and drove off, like nothing ever happened.

Only God knows how much blood I will draw on that vile woman behind the steering wheel, but only I know how much blood Romeo threw up as he writhed on that street.

I screamed and ran to the middle of the road, wrapped him with my jacket and rode home like a demon.

I did everything I can to stabilize him, I called every vet on my phone list, but it was Saturday and it was almost midnight. No one picked up the phone.
I went with my gut and gave him painkiller; we kept him on heater; we sucked blood from his nose and wiped it off his mouth. We gave him oxygen, I dripped subcu slow and steady.

We stayed up the whole night making sure he stays alive, we stayed up a long time more until our kitty ambulance vet took him for X Ray.

Romeo had concussion, and we do not have equipment to know whether his injury is reversible or not.

One sure way to remove the blood clot is surgery on his brain, but we do not have equipment nor expertise to perform it.

What we can do, is give Romeo a chance.

I made my bet one more time, and told my kitty ambulance vet about the matching challenge. I told her that while I do not have sufficient funds to start Romeo’s medication, I will have whatever fund is necessary by the time the challenge ends.

The vet took my bet and started treatment immediately.

Romeo will have the same medication as for human concussion for five days. If his body responds, the medicine will help his body remove the blood clot in his brain, and we will bring him back to full consciousness. If he does not respond by the end of day five, or falls into a coma at anytime during the medication, or is getting weaker, we will let him go.

If I can knock on heaven’s door right now, I’ll have him stay. I’ll have Romeo stay and know home. I’ll have Romeo stay and know family, know safety, know good food.

If I can knock on heaven’s door right now, I will have Romeo stay and know love.

But for now, I will give him all my might that he knows a second chance and he gets his fight fairly.

~ Josie

An unlimited matching challenge is ongoing. All donations made between July 29 and August 3rd will be doubled. There is no “up to”. We are free to raise as much as we can. Be the hope for Romeo and many hundreds of abused, neglected, and stray cats in Bandung by following this link:

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

Video of Romeo:

You can help us; grab this chance for change!

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Ten years drowned under the big names that hog all the money, in front of us now lay the chance of a lifetime to take the cat sanctuary that has link thousands of compassionate people together from around the world.

There is no limit, no “matched up to” If we raised USD 1,000 we will get 2,000; if we make 10,000, that too will be doubled.

In the name of our kindness and compassion, may we all raise as many cats as we can from the oblivion of hell into the cradle of humanity.

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

We have until August 5th 2019 to make the most of this splendid opportunity. Please act now to help the cats!

POWER OF WILL, MIRACLE OF LOVE

There were no promises. There was no guarantee. There was only the unknown, and the hope was dim.

Yet we started our journey into the valley of the darkness together, so that Bumpy can see through that speck of light at the other end.

The speck of light that is called: Hope.

Every day, when we take one pill from that small bottle, we hear your prayers. We hear your cheer; and as we crush it to mix with his food, we can smell each of you standing by us, patting our shoulders. We can feel your courage. We walk down the corridor of our small cattery strengthened by your power, our feet swung by your courage.

Every day, when we put that bowl down by Bumpy’s nose, very closely because his nose was covered with bumps that block his smell, we tell him about the various people whose spirits are standing behind us.

Every day when we clean his eyes, because they are full with pus, we sang him about the cavalries of small people who gave their hard earned dimes, one after another, day after day, so that he can one day wake up and walk on his own feet, see with his own eyes.

Although we cannot do more than share the silence with which he endures the pain all over his body, we come still with the whisper:

One day we can hear his voice, one day he can be a cat again.

A tiny bump broke and spew pus, two more grow. Two broke out, five grows. It’s like a downward spiral, but something at the back of our mind keep saying “Go on, go on, it’s always darkest before dawn. Bamboo stayed inside the soil for one whole year, but once it broke through earth, it reaches the sky in one day”

Then a tiny bump broke and spew pus, tiny bump dried out and be gone. Another bump broke and spew pus, that other bump dried out and be gone.

By that time Bumpy no longer had friends. No one can handle his smell. He can barely handle the pain and became cranky. He spends his day alone. If he doesn’t sleep, he cleans, if he doesn’t clean, he went to the corner near our drain pipe and chat with the sun, the sky, the wind. Listens to the song of little birds, his ears move with every sound; maybe he is picturing the world without the darkness that broke his eyes.

One day after we wiped off his face, his eyes stayed open. He looked at us, one after another, and meow his croaky voice. Perhaps his throat is a little but rusty after so long.

And he spends his day alone. If he doesn’t sleep, he cleans, if he doesn’t clean, he went to the corner near our drain pipe and chat with the sun, the sky, the wind. Listens to the song of little birds,

One day he sniffed his medicine laced food, and look at us. Perhaps as a courtesy he licked the food once or twice, but then turn away and never touched the bowl.

We realized it after two days, that he must have had regained his sense of smell, and his taste buds come back alive.

The journey was uphill from there. Sometimes we get him to have his medicine, sometimes not.

And new bumps are forming on his nose, pus started to flow from the corner of his eyes.

Then everyday is the battle of wit, but so far, we win.

Sometimes, the best thing to do is to free the animal from their suffering and let them go in peace.

Sometimes.

But we choose the other way, the road less travelled, and sent Bumpy off to his journey toward healing, even when we don’t know what future that might come. Even when that speck of light at the other end seems to be unreachable.

Here is Bumpy today, with his formidable will to live that turn us around, and the miracle of your love that turn him around.

Here is the speck of light that is growing bigger, and brighter, and closer.

Here is for all of you, the small folks and a cast away cat that enter the valley of darkness and made the journey together for hope.

~ Josie

Although Bumpy is getting better, we are only halfway of the journey. Medicine and treatments are most of the force, but to complete his transformation he needs good food, sufficient support therapy, and a clean house – among others; none of which will be available without adequate funding.

To celebrate her birthday and your miraculous grassroots magic, one of our supporters offers to match all donation made between July 29 to August 5. ALL donation, means there is NO LIMIT OF MATCHING FUND.

We hope you will take this once in a lifetime opportunity to double your contribution and truly send Bumpy through to the end of the dark.

We hope to make into reality, the day when you share Bumpy’s video – healthy and happy – to your own Facebook page and say: I made him happen. I’m possible.

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

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Update on Maki

Good morning from Maki 😊   (See the previous news about her.)

Everyone, thank you so much.

Your kind and continued support has allowed us to buy more medication for Maki and, as result, she can eat more diverse food; she is particularly enjoying steamed tuna and a dry food for kittens.

You can see her here befriending a new arrival (we’ll have more about that little one soon).

We are so grateful to you.

If you would like to contribute to her continued care, and that of the other 90-plus cats at the shelter, please follow the link below:

https://www.paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

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Maki

It’s the end of the holiday for us; it’s the end of life for her. We didn’t have anything left, she has never had anything to begin with.

The woman just two steps away pretended she didn’t see her, tightening her legs that pins her travelling bag in between.

The mother a wee bit further, sent her off silently with a sweep of her newly bought shoes, mandatory every Eid Al Fitr.

She had used the remaining of her life force to came up to that mother, begging for food she failed to secure in this then dormant town, but alas.

So she stretched just a little bit longer, walking toward that woman, but she doubted, and she doubted for a very good reason. Instead, she sat at the edge of that once crowded pedestrian way, just across the bus terminal.

I asked to pull over. I had a white jacket. I wrapped her dirty, skinny, mangy existence inside, and stand back straight, holding her on my chest.

What horror it must be for the two women, that their eyeball seemed to pop out of their sockets; or was it disgust? All of a sudden there are a lot of aristocratic and royals in this town; with all their chins up in the sky.

Two weeks of a good home, warm homemade food, supplements, parasiticide; she was still sitting there, on the top of a shelf we put by the window, looking at life gone by outside.

We have incurred many debts we need to pay before service can be rendered right back, but I made that call, and do what she did if it is to keep her survive: beg.

She has virus in her liver, though the lack of available technology cannot tell us what kind. She has parasites in her blood. One day after the other, her pale pink skin turned yellow. Her urine is thick, and it’s orange instead of clear.

One morning I stood by her, looking out of the window, watching life gone by, just like her.

How many roads has she walk through, with nothing but hope? How many shoes and shovel has she endured, with nothing but unheard prayers? How many more of those she has to endure?

If she would stretch a little bit more after that futile last life force, couldn’t I stretch a little bit more? I remembered I told my friend: we will bent a bit further and stretch a little bit thinner. We don’t know when and how we will break, we only know to try our best one more time.

Help came from far, far away; from those we least expected but it’s help none the less. Her two weeks prognosis have now long passed, and Maki is alive.

She still have jaundice; her urine is still thick and orange, but she looks out of the window watching life gone by, knowing that she is home; knowing that she is with family, knowing that she is safe.

Maki needs long term medication to reverse her damaged liver. So far we can only secure half of her required treatment. The rest of the way, is dark and uncertain.

But just like her days behind, she passed through many roads with hope. She endures many rejections with hope, she stretched a little bit further with hope.

Hope that the dark will turn around and light will enter the remaining of her life. Hope that she will find healing.

Hope that no matter how short the days that left, she found love.

And be a cat she should be, the cat she deserves to be.

~ Josie

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

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