Jack

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This is the latest addition to our family – Jack. Or his full name is Jack Nyian. Sofia said that it’s how the Japanese says meow. It’s good enough by me.

When Jack joined us in February, he was about two and a half months old. A baby still. He didn’t eat for two weeks – the only reason we could think of was that he misses his siblings, there were four of them altogether at the SPCA. We had to force feed him, his medicines and his food. He’d protest, sounding like a faulty chainsaw every time we fed him. We tried all sorts of cat food, right up to ones that have a crown on the labels – for royalty we reckon, very exclusive. It didn’t work. After about 3 weeks and a scrawnier and scrawnier Jack by the day, we found a brand that he’d gobble up readily. But it came at a cost – part of his fur would disappear as the days went by. The vet later told us that it was because of the salt in the food – salt and cat fur do not go down well with each other it seems. So we took him off that particular brand of food and pleasantly found out that by then he’d eat whatever brand of dry cat food we’d give him.

At night when we bring him into the house, he’d disappear for about half an hour or so before appearing with a very favorite play thing – cockroach!! Eeewww Jack. We still keep him in the cage outside at nights, there are dogs outside that makes it too dangerous to let him roam free. We’d let him loose in the daytime because he’d come home after an hour or so. But at night, the few times he “escaped”, it was after a long session of searching and shouting his name that he’d appear, usually all dirty and panting. Sofia’s eyes would be moist already, at the prospect of Jack not returning for the night. Once he came back with a cut on his left thigh. We thought he was in a fight but he was relatively clean, he wasn’t panting or scared and I reckoned that he cut himself on a thorn or something sharp.

He hardly meows. He’d meow when he wants to get out from the cage in the morning. He’d meow mostly to Sofia only. If he’s out on a walkabout, Sofia calling out his name would usually bring him home. It usually does not work with Lina or me. Sofia playing the piano would have the same effect too. I tried but I guess my very bad rendition of Crocodile Rock would only drive him further away. He’d come in the door and announce himself home with a very soft meow and lie down to have his pink, yes, pink tummy scratched. We don’t worry too much about him anymore if he were to run off in the daytime, because he’d always come back after a while.

Though physically he is fully grown but he is still a kitten and there are some square faced tomcats out there, within the neigbourhood and I think Jack would still have some trouble handling them. But I reckon by the end of this year, he’d be able t hold his own against most of them. He’d purr loudly whenever we carry or stroke him and every few days or so, we’d say he “bau macam kucing” and it’s mandi time for Jack. No major problems except that he’d just show his unhappiness at the shampooing and water by trying to escape and at being towelled dry. Amidst declarations that he smells, looks and feels much better, he’d sit down for the next half an hour and lick himself dry.

Well, al least tak bau macam kucing lagi.....

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