Tag Archives: puspusin

Fatigued Friday

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Purr machine extraordinaire πŸ™‚

Blah. Still struggling. 😦 Another fatigued Friday πŸ˜” I’m trying to get some relief from this murky state by giving my dear Twister a cat massage. It’s the best! That way Twister feels more secure and confident that he is Top Cat in this household, we strengthen our bond, and I get purrs in return to help counter fatigue.

Happy Friday, one and all! πŸ™‚

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Tales of Two Kitties Thursdays

I am in the prodome phase of my migraine. This is the pre-headache part: I’m exhausted, everything is muddy and cloudy, and I am taken over a general feeling of blahness. I usually just stay in bed and let it pass, but today I had to tutor and travel around the city. It was an excruciating day, to say the least. I’m raring to go off to dreamland, but before I do that, I must stick with my promise and post something in my blog. So, let’s do this!

My Thursday entries will be dedicated to my two kitties, Ella and Astroboy. They wil have their own day one day, but for now they will have to share Thursdays. They are inseparable anyway, so… I am grasping for words; it’s annoying me to bits. I will just leave you with a picture and maybe, maybe, tomorrow I can talk more about the two.

Good night!

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Wednesday on a Wednesday: Lady Cat

Now that I have Twisted Tuesdays for Twister, I think it’s only fair to dedicate Wednesdays to — who else? — Wednesday. πŸ™‚

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The lovely Lady Wednesday

Among all my cats, Wednesday is probably the one who suffers from Middle Child Syndrome. I adopted her on 11 April 2012, a little over a year after Twister found me. Cats, I realized at that point, are like that certain brand of potato chips: once you start, you can’t stop. I was thinking that my first born needed a companion since I was busy teaching and was away most of the time. I did my calculations and knew that I was not only ready emotionally, but also financially. I was still sharing a flat with my brother then so I had to talk to him about my decision. He was open to the idea as long as 1) I continue to be responsible for everything. They were my cats and not his so I should not expect him to take care of them, and 2) it had to be a black one. I concurred with both: number one was never a doubt anyway and I never expected any help from him and number 2 was part of my plan. I adore tabbies, but black cats are marvelous! If I were to expand my feline family then I had to have a black one.

So I asked and I scoured Facebook for information. That’s how I got to know CARA Welfare Philippines, a non-profit, non-governmental organization that promotes and protects animal welfare in the country. I also became a member of a Filipino cat group on FB, Cat Care Philippines. I looked at the photos of kitties that were up for adoption and heard their stories. Twister got me started on being a cat lady, but my search for Wednesday made me into a conscientious and compassionate one.

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First night. She was hiding and insecure about her surroundings. Poor kitty! 😦

I finally got a tip from my brother that there was a black cat for adoption near our place. He had a friend who was the son of an active volunteer of CARA and had a cattery at home. So I sent my application for adoption, set up a meeting with them, and went to their place. They had about 40 cats at that time — all clean, healthy and happy. I never knew a place like that existed in Manila! The cats were all lounging around except for 2 little kitties who were zooming around playing hide and seek. One of them was black. Her name was Midnight then. I took a look at her and knew she was The One. I was able to hold her for a few seconds and then she was off again chasing her tri-colored sister. We were all convinced that this was going to work, so we arranged for her delivery to my home.

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She was scared but still lovely. Sigh.

After doing some research on cat introductions, my brother and I agreed to keep Midnight in my brother’s room for 2-3 weeks before letting her roam the rest of the apartment and, most important of all, meet His Royal Highness. They came and I announced that I was going to rename her Wednesday (for Wednesday Addams). There were no violent reactions so that was that. Her first night was tough on her, I imagine. From galavanting with her sister in a compound full of cats to being alone in a bedroom. I felt bad for her, but I knew she would adjust. I’ll leave the rest of the story for later. πŸ™‚

So here she is, all grown up and ever so gorgeous. She has a great relationship with Twister — they can sit together in peace and groom each other once in a while — plus she has started to run around and play with the kitties, Astroboy and Ella. She’s Ms. friendship in this household. At 2 years old, she has grown up to become quite a loving and sweet cat. She can be a diva, mind you, but you can always count on her to keep the peace in our home. I look forward to writing more about her. Β‘Hasta la prΓ³xima miΓ©rcoles! πŸ™‚

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Wednesday is a bookworm: she loves to consume books. Literally. Her favorites all have teethmarks at the corner. πŸ™‚

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Twisted Tuesdays: day 1

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Huh? Who me?

I’ve decided to dedicate my Tuesday posts to my “first born” cat, Twister. He was The One who started it all. I’ve always wanted to have a cat, but my family always had dogs so I never got one. I picked up a stray kitty when I was about 6 years old (yes, I guess I had it in me already), but he or she disappeared after a while. We should have neutered or spayed him, I suppose. My second encounter with a cat was when I was living in Spain in 2004-2005. My flatmate had a cat named Oya. I even wrote about her in my first blog.

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He’s saying no to the salmon. He was sick then and refused to eat.

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He slept peacefully on my foot and refused to leave my side. I was owned!

Then came Twister. He found me on February 12, 2011 at Van Gogh is Bipolar restaurant. I was running late (because I was too lazy to go out but my friends forced me to have a single ladies’ night out in anticipation of VDay! Hah!) and my two girl friends were already waiting for me at the garden of the restaurant. I say hello and then — BOOM! — a little tabby burst out of the bushes and gave a loud MEOW! I was too shocked to react. The waiter came, apologized, and took him away. I asked him where he was going to take the little one and he said by the entrance. He left and we were transferred to a bigger table. We ordered and chatted and then after a while the kitty returned and slept on my foot. We tried to feed it, but he wouldn’t budge.

At the end night a decision had to be made: do I leave him there or do I take him with me? My friends were convinced that I should take him, even the owner of the place came out and offered me a birthday cake box so I could take him. I was unsure. I wasn’t financially stable at that time and was sharing a flat with my brother in a building where they didn’t allow pets. But he wouldn’t leave my side and I just couldn’t part with him. So into the box he went and I threw caution to the wind! πŸ™‚ He popped out of the box several times so I finally decided to just put him inside my bag with his head sticking out. We went to a bar for some beers and he was there with us.

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He tagged along when we went out for a drink after. He was checking out the dog behind me.

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My purse turned into his sleeping bag. I never got to use that again because he got sick and did his business in there. No problem! Worth the sacrifice!

And the rest, as they say, is history. His Royal Highness truly deserves to have a day dedicated to him in my blog!

Oh, I decided to name him Twister because his tail looked like a twister fry back then. Now it looks like Harry Potter’s scar. πŸ™‚

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His Royal Highness knows how to relax.

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