I am a school teacher and work in East Malaysia. As my husband and I are originally from Peninsula Malaysia, we always take our yearly vacation to visit our family there. My husband spends a considerable amount of time away from home. Because of this irregular schedule, we have refrained ourselves from keeping pets (we love to have one or two cats). After four years working in the city, my husband continued his study and he has to work on an island, 20 km away from the mainland. I live alone near the school and my husband would come home once every nine or ten days. There is a small district town where we usually get our supplies. As always the case in the rural areas, there are a lot of stray animals mostly cats and dogs. Dogs are the worse; one or two may die on the road every week. Let alone other animals such s chickens, goats and pigs. Once there was a huge buffalo died by the roadside and left to rot and eaten by other stray animals.

One day, coming out from the fish market, we saw a kitten, curling its feet under its body, probably trying to get the warmth of the asphalt. It was just outside the market. The head seemed too large for the skinny and hairless body. The little hair that remained looked dry and we could see numerous ticks running busily amongst the hair. The head was lowered and brought close to its body. Eyes were half closed and sticky. It had a long tail but the vent was dirty, apparently suffering from diarrhea. Yet the body was so smelly and weak and cold. It must had been discarded and left at the fish market so that people would have mercy and throw bits of food. Alas, the kitten was so young and small. It could have not survived without help (That's what we thought, but cats have nine lives, haven't they?).

My husband looked at me and I looked at him. Slowly we walked to the kitten and had a cursory look. It was a tricolored female kitten, barely a month old. A moggy, for sure. I held her in my hands and I could feel the cold ears and feet, so skinny and so light as if she was merely a sack of dry bones. She looked at me through the half opened eyes begging for a little kindness. There, on that very spot, we made a foolish suggestion: that we would keep her for a while until she is strong enough and then we would leave her at the fish market again so that she would survive! Both of us nodded and agreed and understood each other that we would never have her permanently. That the cat would remain outside of the house. My husband promised to make a box for her to sleep in.

So it happened and we brought her home. Home cats usually have names so we called her “Buang” meaning “The discarded one”. Of course the name fitted her well, so well that the name would make it easier for us to discard her once again, when the time comes. As we were not prepared, we didn’t have any cat food so we fed her boiled fish and eggs. She took very little milk but slowly took more after several days. She became much stronger after a week but the diarrhea did not stop. Despite the uneasiness and running vent, Buang could not help being a kitten and tried very hard to be playful. We washed her and cleaned her eyes with eye ointment. Then we took her to a vet some 100 km away. She was dewormed and received an injection. We also bought her proper cat food. After a month Buang recovered completely. Her hair grew thicker and she was even more playful. By then Buang was sleeping with me in our bedroom! Time flew and without noticing it passed, we realized that we had been frequenting a pet shop in that faraway city. My husband who came home occasionally was very much intrigued by Buang’s development and I became so jealous sometimes when Buang prefered to play with my husband instead.

By the second month, Buang was a bumpy doll. We played hide and seek and chased each other in the lawn. I would grab her belly and she would grab my hand with her little claws and mock-bite my fingers. She would kick her hind leg rapidly but would suddenly dart away and grab ping-pong ball. We played all kinds of stalky and jumpy games whenever I had time. When I went to work, Buang would be sleeping in bed. I guessed, she might have done that so boringly when there was nobody to play with. I myself could hardly wait to finish the school session for I knew that Buang would wait for me in the doorway, lie on the floor and expose her belly ready to start yesterdays’ game all over again.

Now we have had Buang for three months. She is now very strong, intelligent and beautiful. She had her vaccination last fortnight. At the worse time in our lives, my husband and I adopted a cat! Buang would remain with us forever and I won’t blame my husband nor myself. It was all Buang’s fault!.

August 1999
Kuala Penyu, Sabah