Earlier this week, Budak went traipsing in Armenia street and found, in the back alleys, these kitties, and some kittens as well.
In the alley behind the kopitiam roam drain cats by the dozen. A lanky tom with swinging balls kept a wary distance throughout. More approachable were the slim queens who glared at my friendly duck with disdain, preferring to sniff rice and leftovers from the Muslim diners that are still open….
When compared to what cats like these have to live through, the slackers have a disgustingly easy life. The cattery cats have a shelter over their heads. And our clannies have us attending to them. What do these cats have? Sure, there are food bowls and water too, but unsterilised, and sometimes blind to dangers like oncoming traffic, how many of them are able to live long?
Sometimes, I wish for a frontal lobotomy just thinking about it. Someone wake me from this endless brainscaping.