Street cats aren't used to the comforts of living indoors. Life on the streets can be rough for them so they have to adopt certain behaviours to help them survive. They are not used to being taken in and given a first world lifestyle. This is so vastly different to what they’re used to, that when they experience this, all hell and chaos breaks loose.
My husband and I discovered this after moving to Manila and taking one into our home.
When we first arrived in Manila, I didn't have much to do. My husband had work, but having quit my job in Australia before we moved, I was a little bored.
So naturally, after seeing a notice asking for volunteers to help feed the stray cats in the area, I signed up.
Feeding the cats was easy enough. They lived in groups dotted along the streets like little tribes of homeless people. Most of them were friendly and seemed to get along with each other for the most part.. that was until food came out.. then it was a free for all.
In any event, the little gremlins seemed to appreciate my daily offering of chicken turkey delight kibble and I felt a sense of purpose at having given them a nutritious albeit semi dehydrating meal each day.
I sneaked him into our building through the basement and took the stairs to our apartment. This way I figured no one would notice me walking into the building with a meowing tote bag.
After introducing him to his new temporary home (and dashing out again to buy some ‘kitten’ essentials, of course), I tried to get to know him. Naturally, food seemed to be the first thing on the agenda so I made up some kitten formula and watched as he eagerly took it.
Aww.. I thought. What an adorable little guy…
One of my first tasks that evening was to take a cute photo to generate interest for potential adopters. Luckily, I managed to get a snap of him in a strategically adorable pose, staring directly into the camera and looking preciously cute.
How cute.. fostering this little guy will be a breeze, I thought.
Unfortunately however, it didn’t occur to me that kittens grow quickly. He ate a tonne and pooped up a storm, and because he didn’t have another kitten to play with, in a small space of time he went from adorable milk drinking baby to menacing boy.
We learned quickly that this particular kittens tactic for getting what he wanted was incessant meowing.
Hungry?
Bored?
Tired?
Need to poop?
Ceaseless meowing wouldn’t usually bother me, I would usually think it’s cute.. but when you’re living in a building that doesn’t allow pets and the neighbours can hear, it’s not exactly ideal.
I had bought him toys to help keep him occupied. Unfortunately, he would tire of them quickly. This is because one of his favourite games was bite the human. It seemed as though he viewed us as the ultimate play thing, complete with fun dangly snake arms and feet that looked like prey.
Another one of his favourite games was toilet brush. This game consisted of sneaking into the bathroom and playing with the toilet brush.
There was also ‘get in the rubbish’ where he simply gets in the rubbish.
However, 'get in the rubbish’ was in no way as bad as ‘play in the litter tray’ where he would roll around and play in his litter tray.
Unfortunately trying to stop him from playing any of these these games was futile. He was a kitten and he was determined.
Eventually I resorted to shutting all of the doors so he couldn’t get into any rooms to play his disgusting games. To combat this, he would wait in the hallway and sprint into a room whenever a door was opened…
I would marvel at his sheer speed. Even if you did see him coming he was the perfect size to swiftly dodge your feet.
There was no way you could stop him.
He was a tiny pro.
As infuriating as he may have been however, it occurred to me that perhaps this was how he was programmed for survival. He was the latest in a long line of generations of street cats.. the more annoying the more successful.
We endured this for a few weeks. No one had enquired about adopting him yet and I was growing increasingly worried.. for Kitten and for my sanity.
Then one day, as I was pulling Kitten out of the rubbish for the fifthteenth time that day, I received a text message.. “Is your kitten still available for adoption? :)”
It turns out that a young family with two children wanted to adopt him. As a plus, they had also recently adopted another kitten that he could play with and bother to his hearts content.
When the day finally came to hand him over I bundled him into a tote bag and this time, snuck him out of the building.
Waiting outside was the family, excited and eager to welcome their new kitten into their family. He seemed a little worried as I pulled him out of the tote bag and handed him over.
And it was then that I realised I would miss him.
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