It was a cloudy dusk when a little cat, four months old, approached me. He was shy and afraid, but she sniffed and look at me, hoping for some blessings. I have spent my last pouch for another cat in the area, so I pat him briefly, assuring him to stay, and ran across the street to buy cat food from nearby clinic. They only sell Royal Canin, so royal canin it was, although I despise their massive use of corn.
As I pour down a handful of kibbles, I saw that the baby tried to get as much kibbles as he can in his mouth, and disappear behind a garbage drum. He would showed up again, took as much kibbles as he can, and ran away. I was curious so I followed him, and found out that he gave all the kibbles to his mother, crouching behind the garbage drum. I thought his mother was sick, but was heart broken to learn that the mother only have three legs.
I brought them home, and called her Thelma; three legged mama. I called her good son Louis. Thelma and Louis. From the remains of her shoulder joint, we learned that her leg had been clamped and ripped apart, most probably by pit bulls (for dog fightiing and show off) that was then a trend among Bandung young men. The pit bulls often took to that SOHO complex, allegedly for evening run, but often only for show off of machismo especially when those dogs harass girls and stray animals.
Louis had complication after vaccination and did not survive, but Thelma, as loving as she always be despite her disability, is a foster mother to many other kittens who found their way to our home.
Thelma loves tuna, and she loves to lounge on the air purifier near the door. Sometimes she will slip into my room and sleep on the laptop, or took refuge in my studio and snooze off the whole day on piles of whiskas pouches in the basket I put under the wardrobe. Thelma is peaceful and kind. She will pat a little head or two if they become too raucous, but everyone loves her as their mother.
Hire Thelma for USD 10 per month here: