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Tinker Barber Soldier Spy

plus minus 48 degrees wobble

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

little kitty wants to see the horizon and have his freedom of choice

Whoever coined the phrase 'letting the cat out of the bag' couldn't possibly know what he was talking about. The cat just won't tolerate being confined to the bag. Whilst this is based on the observation of a sample of one 'still very wet behind his ears' kitty out of a population of one, hey, gimme a break, this is the closest I've been to being 'David Attenborough' since witnessing a newborn cockroach in an ant line. (The ants couldn't possibly see very well or they won't have adopted the cockroach. Even a newborn cockroach is many times bigger than the ant. Imagine when it got older? I will never be discussing the interview I had with a Chinese man adopted by a Malay family when I was temporarily employed by IRAS to avoid sedition charges being preferred against me.

Back to little kitty. This little kitty must've wandered off from his mother's lair, and got lost? He stumbles on his feet, rolls over whenever he lifts a hind-limb to scratch his back, cannot negotiate steps, and bawls in his own urine till I come along.

I found him at the lift landing. He couldn't negotiate steps, so he must've fallen down the other, down which I myself stumbled just a minute before. (My legs have gotten worse in the past ten years, and I'm just pushing 44, and I cannot walk 2 bus-stops without getting a 'Frank Lampard's dead-leg'. Frank Lampard has his specialist, but us 'close to Swiss standard of living' Singaporeans cannot afford to see a doctor as we don't get paid peanuts.) Funny that he stumbled so many steps in just one minute or was he already at the lift landing when I got there? My sight ain't getting better either.

I took the little kitty in, and discovered that I was a 'control freak'. I cannot imagine an animal wandering around, so I confined him to a pail, and then a cardboard box. I thought he was better off being with me a few days than being on his own and uncertain feet. When I say prison fare is better than what I'm eating, you know I have nothing to offer the little kitty.

The kitty spent much of the next 12 hours sleeping away his confinement. (I do the same when confined by Wong Kan Seng’s goons.) Then he started bawling. So I thought I'll set him free. I may be a control freak but I'm not Kim IL Sung or his son, Kim Jung IL. A control freak has responsibilities. You can't be a control freak and yet tell people, hey, you be an entrepreneur. Mikhail Gorbachev realized that when he initiated glasnost and perestroika.

When the kitty was set free, he kept returning to the cardboard box. Never ventured very far. Must've regretted leaving his mother's lair. I retrieved a piece of whatever somebody had thrown away, and watched the kitty eat. He couldn't gnaw very well for lack of teeth and inability to hold the whatever in his paws. The poor dear even had his eyes closed trying to gnaw. No choice but to spend another day with a control freak?

Little kitty's actually cute. Confine him to the cardboard box and he'll bawl. So I confined him to the kitchen area. In the short time together, he established some kind of communication with me. Whenever he heard my foot steps, he'll venture from his slumber at the edge of the cardboard box, and come to me. Then it's back to the cardboard box. Kitty doesn't mind living in a cardboard box. He just appreciates being able to see the horizon. Young feline wants freedom of choice. Not good eat good sleep. (Skip the good eat part in this particular scenario.)
Then little kitty bawled. The reason was he realized he could mess up. He only got up when I came along. Not that I mind him urinating. He was cleaner when I picked him up than when he was allowed to wander the kitchen area. But I realized that the Berlin wall had to come down. A control freak had responsibilities beyond which I was capable to assume. Before setting him free, I tested his ability to move around. He responded to my foot tapping for more than 120 metres, stumbling only once. He still cannot negotiate steps, and it maybe a little early to let him go, but I thought him better off on his own. I miss the little tiger already. I hope he's still alive.

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