Cats will never allow anyone to use a leash and use it to rob them of their dignity. Nobody is going to walk them. They will walk whenever they want. This I learned this afternoon when I attempted the stupidest thing in the world, putting Tumi on a leash. He jumped all over the place, hurt himself, thrashed the room, and almost scoop my eyeballs with his claws. I had to wrap him with a towel to control him then quickly unbuckled him. He suffered some small cuts plus I will have to wait for a week or more to regain his trust. This cat demands respect and will not let anyone to shame him. Sorry, Tumi. It won’t happen again.
I’m spending my long weekend resting, playing with my cats, cleaning the condo, checking some papers of my students, and making a summary of my monthly expenses. I plan to purchase another retirement instrument, my third, in order to secure my old age. I got two earlier retirement plans under Philam and Insular Life and this third I am getting is under Sunlife. Given my very modest salary, and factoring in the two condominium units I’m currently mortgaging for ten years and an HMO I have to complete paying in the next two years, by 45, I shall be ready to retire, go back to the province, and tend a small plot of land which I bought last year. Capital indeed perpetuates itself.
Security wasn’t my biggest value when I was in my early twenties. Back then, seizing life by the neck was my ultimate goal. I was willing to squander the future in the name of carpe-dieming, or YOLO-ing in the parlance of my students. I could risk it all for love and for that one moment. Now that I am a little older, I know better that this life and this city are only for the young and ambitious. I can toil here for another 10 years, build more capital, and when the time to say quits comes, I should be able to let go without much pain and love lost for this city where I have spent almost a third of my life.
I think I am writing this post because I want to put some order to my seemingly disorganized thoughts that are made more muddled by this suffocating November heat. No matter how many showers I take in a day, the stinging humidity reminds me endlessly of death and all the sad things that come with one’s last days. And I find comfort in the fact that my 60s will be spent comfortably with my family and the cats I will have by that time because Mimi and Tumi will not be with me anymore by then.
Funny how I had to look up for a nearby cremation service yesterday. And my cats are only eight months old. I shall be spending 10-15 more years with them. But they too will have to go, and the thought of their leaving me is more than enough to make me shed a tear.
If only entropy can be reversed and my two kitties be with me forever, and I don’t have to pay for all these retirement instruments and just enjoy the present.
There are days when I wish you both gone. You’ve given me endless sneezes since yesterday, you scratched me, Mimi, while I so gently clipped your hind claws, you, Tumi always occupy the whole bed and cover it with your fur, you both scream and attempt to manslaughter me every month whenever I give you warm bath. You, Mimi, has achieved that rare expertise of finding my jugular veins and clawing them, always unsuccessfully, but one of these days, once you’re bigger and more experienced, you’ll be successful in the attempt, I’m imagining myself rotting for weeks on the floor of the bathroom surrounded by dried-up blood while you and Tumi escape through the window and use the elevator from the 21st floor to the ground floor, getting your freedom at last. If that happens, Mimi, please take care of fat Tumi. He will not survive outside, unlike you who’s independent and strong.
In spite of all these, I know that what I have for you two boys is the closest I can go to what they call unconditional love.
The two kitties trying to escape.