This morning, I went looking for Carlie and Ivan again. I was hoping to get a good clear picture of Carlie’s tail which I hope would help in confirming if she was indeed the lost cat from Yishun. Little was I to know.
When I got to level 2, I was surprised to see Ivan there. Carlie was nowhere to be seen. But Ivan was not exactly his usual “Mmmm… food! Here I come” self. He seemed to be edgy and bristly. I wondered if he had suddenly decided to evict Carlie.
Then I heard meows, which did not sound like Carlie. Ivan hissed his hostility in a direction and I turned to see him…
I thought at first glance that it might be Iggy, who’s been missing since October and whose disappearance I believe I know the cause (more on that later).
Btu no, it’s definitely Stanley, who had wandered over from Area2. This large-territorial patrolling was not surprising as Buddy, who is now missing, also did the same frequently. So did Ivan himself until we got his mojo away.
Ivan started a racket and he responded in kind. Ivan was near the stoppered doorway I used for Carlie. He then went under the taxi parked there and continued his posturing. I thought he might have been on the wrong end of whatever scuffle they’ve engaged in.
Combined, the ruckus from the two typical silly males was enough to raise the dead. I had to do something but did not know what. Stanley was approaching the car/doorway, and I had the sudden inspiration to use my tote bag and shoo him through it. Lucikily he scooted through it and shot downstairs.
Ivan was still in no mood for food, so I decided to follow Stanley. On the ground floor, he played a bit of hide-and-seek with me, but he seemed just wary but not feral. I called my mum and asked her to bring a large carrier. Despite being unwell, she was about to visit our family doctor for a consult, she decided to bring me the carrier first.
I had Stanley eating a bit of wet food and was petting him when my mum came. It took all of 5 minutes to get him to trust me. Close-up, I could see the network-like pattern of the bloody scratches above his left eye. He was also limping a little from a deep-looking wound on the back of his hind-left leg. My heart sank and I wondered how badly hurt was Ivan, given that he was posturing from under a car while this guy was swaggering up and spoiling for a new round.
My mum too worried me, she looked pale and I got anxious to get it over and done with, so I could accompany her to see the doctor.
But I had to concentrate on the present. After showing my mum how to hold the carrier and slam it shut once I got Stanley in, I scruffed him quickly and swung him toward the vertically-held carrier. He was very heavy but pliant. Unfortunately, just as his bum cleared the opening, his hindlegs almost got tangled in the door. I was trying to readjust his position when the element of surprise was lost. He started struggling and I had to let go off him or risk hurting either of us. He scooted off and I vented my frustration with a yell.
A Chinese uncle who I had noticed watching us as he meddled about his parked motorcycle about 10 metres away approached quickly and angrily asked if we were abandoning the cat.
I then explained to him that it was a homeless cat he saw us with and we were trying to trap him for sterilisation. He seemed puzzled and I told him we sterilise cats living in our neighbourhood so there’s less potential for problems. He said we were kind to do so and I tried to tell him it was better than seeing them dead from complaints, and that it’s not the solution since other cats will keep moving in. Then I ask him if he’s seen Ivan before, he said yes, that one’s always fighting. I said that’s because he’s sterilised and while I was trying to tell him Ivan fights off intruding cats and kept the area relatively free of cat problems, he wasn’t paying attention, but was telling me to make sure I clean the scratches I got from Stanley. Then he smiled and said “好心沒好报” (my kindness had been repaid with vengence).
But Stanley really wasn’t vicious at all. He was frightened and simply trying to escape a threatening situation.
We couldn’t find Stanley after, so I thought to go back home, deposit the food bag and carrier and accompany my mum to the doctor’s. But she insisted on feeding Ivan first.
So we went upstairs and while trying to get Ivan to follow me down, we heard a meow, and through the floor meshings, saw Stanley staring up at us. So we went downstairs and tried to get near him. This time, he maintained a healthy 2m buffer and finally scooted off and out of the carpark, away from Area1.
My mum again insisted that I feed Ivan even though what I wanted was to get her to the doctor quick. So I asked her to bring the carrier home and wait for me.
Ivan was still upstairs. Though he wouldn’t follow beyond the doorway as before, the terribly oafy one once again allowed me to lug him downstairs, where I served him his meal at the usual spot. This time, he made really short work of the food. He also seemed none the worse for wear, unlike Stanley. I felt relief and as soon as I cleared his “table”, I hurried home – Stanley’s mojo robbery will have to wait for another day and time.