Post by kungfuzu on Jul 3, 2019 8:28:01 GMT -8
From mid-1985 until December 1991 my wife and I lived on Shouson Hill Road on Hong Kong Island. Shouson Hill was located just on the south exit of the Aberdeen Tunnel which was a main thoroughfare between the north and south side of the island.
In those days, I was more health conscious, and my wife and I would often walk the length of the road, which meandered around Shouson Hill through a peaceful neighborhood far from the hustle and bustle of Central on the north side of Hong Kong.
I generally took a Maglite flashlight with me for reasons of illumination and protection. There were a number of building sites along the road which sometimes had watch dogs wandering around them. Although these animals were supposed to be scary, they generally made more noise than trouble. However, should a particular canine feel a little more frisky than usual, a flash of light in his eyes and a swift whack would give him reason to beat a hasty retreat.
Along most of the road were sidewalks for the few pedestrians who might wish to exercise or visit friends in neighboring apartment blocks. Since it was on a hill, there was a distinct incline as we started out on our walks. This leveled out at the top and gave way to a noticeable decline after that. As we trudged up the concrete path I would use my flashlight to scan the path just ahead of us.
Some minutes into one of our walks, I noticed a small object straight in front of us. It had the look of a pile of dog-doo, and I warned my wife to be careful where she stepped. As I got closer to pile, and were about to step around it, I noticed that it was not a pile of poo at all. Rather there was a lone little kitten curled up and shaking on the sidewalk. It was a truly pitiful sight.
We stopped and had a closer look at the poor thing. It was so small that it would have fit easily into the palm of my hand. After a short discussion, we decided to take it back to our place. I wrapped it up in a small face towel, which I had with me, and turned back for home.
When we got back to our apartment we gently cleaned up the little thing. Then we put a small saucer of warm milk in front of the kitten, but it was too weak to move so we fed it a small amount of milk with an eyedropper, and it even had trouble swallowing that. Figuring that the best thing for it was rest, we put it in a shoe box with some old socks and towels and left it to sleep. Once this was done, we discussed things and decided that if the kitten made it through the night, come the morning, we would take it to a nearby veterinarian on Blue Pool Road.
When we woke up, the kitten was still with us so off we went to the vet. He was an elderly Scotsman who had been practicing in Hong Kong for some 40 years and had seen just about everything to do with small animals. While waiting to see him, I noticed a poster on his wall which said, “No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.” From that moment, I knew that I was going to like him.
Once we got in to see the vet we told him our story and let him know we wanted to help the animal. He had a look at the kitten and, while started his checkup by pulling a long worm out of her bottom. After this, he looked up at us with a knowing smile and said something to the effect that “If you go around picking up such kittens in Hong Kong you will have a full house very quickly.” There was a mixture of kindness and advice in his voice.
Once the vet had taken care of the cat, we took her back home, and continued feeding her with an eyedropper as well as making sure she was warm and secure. We thought she should have a name so we called her Ragamuffin.
Things went on this way for a day or two when one night we heard a bumping/thumping noise and then a pitiful wailing from Ragamuffin. We went into the bathroom, where we kept her box, and she was shaking and had peed all over herself. Given her harsh beginnings, we were not sure what had brought on the fit, so back we went to the vet to see if he could help us.
We described the episode to the vet and he determined that Ragamuffin had epilepsy. The vet advised that while fairly common in dogs, epilepsy was rare in cats. He had personally never seen it before. He had an anti-epilepsy medicine for dogs, but there was nothing specifically for cats. The vet gave us some dog pills for the disease, but warned there was the possibility that the cat would react badly to them so we should be ready for that eventuality. As anyone who has had a cat knows, cats are very odd creatures, and can be sickened by many things that would not hurt a dog or a human.
We took the pills home, and began the lifelong practice of treating her epilepsy. We broke the pills into quarters and began the experiment to find out the dosage which would best control Ragamuffin’s epilepsy, yet not incapacitate her. This took a number of weeks to determine. I can well remember sticking the medicine in her mouth and making sure she swallowed it. This would take several attempts because, as anyone who has had a pet knows, they don’t like being force fed such things and will constantly try to spit the medicine out of their mouths. Ragamuffin never got completely comfortable with the procedure, but she began to accept it with a bit more grace as time went by.
Gradually, Ragamuffin grew stronger and became more responsive. She grew very close to us and felt secure only in our presence. She didn’t like to see anybody else and would disappear under our bed if we had visitors to our apartment. Once, when looking for her under the bed, I could not find her, but noticed that there was a very small sagging in the lining of our box spring. I looked closer and that sagging was Ragamuffin. She had found a small hole in the bottom lining of our box springs and enlarged it so that she could crawl up into it and disappear. This spot clearly gave her a feeling of security and it would become her place of refuge until she finally grew up, got too heavy, and the lining gave out.
Early on, we were worried Ragamuffin might be lonely and tried to bring in a friend for her i.e. we got another cat. This did not go down well. She hissed spit and was generally unfriendly to the poor feline we had brought in, who wanted nothing more than to play. In the end, we had to give up and remove the new cat. Once it was out of our home, Ragamuffin was back to normal and affectionate as usual.
Not only was Ragamuffin affectionate, she was also the most intelligent cat I have ever seen.
In those years, I traveled at least 50 % of the time. Ragamuffin didn’t like this at all. She would generally disappear under the bed for some time when I returned from a trip. After one trip, I had just come through the front door when my wife came to greet me. This time, instead of letting Ragamuffin run under the bed, my wife had picked her up and brought her into the front hall. As I said hello to the cat, she gave me an imperious look and slowly turned away from me. Ragamuffin was so mad at me that she wouldn’t look at me. This was quite amazing. Even more amazing, and funny, was the fact that as she turned away from me I could see her looking at me form the corner of her eye to check whether or not I was still focused on her. I had to laugh out loud as I had never seen anything like this in my life. Once Ragamuffin had made her point and I acknowledged she was the center of attention, she forgave me and let me take her from my wife. Of course the cat was magnanimous enough to let me scratch her under her chin for some seconds.
I was only half joking when I would say that Ragamuffin was the world’s most expensive cat.
In those years, I was often able to take my wife with me on such trips, as we had no children. This was a very nice situation to be in, but Ragamuffin complicated things. With her shyness and need for daily medicine, we could not just leave her alone or at some cat hotel. Therefore, if my wife wanted to continue traveling with me, we had to find a solution. The solution was that we hired a Filipina amah (maid) to live with us and take care of the cat when we were away. It took several months for Ragamuffin to become accustomed to the amah, but we were lucky in our choice of maids as she was a wonderful woman who had a kind heart and loved animals. In time, Ragamuffin accepted the amah although she never treated her with the respect she accorded my wife and me. In any case, my wife was again able to travel with me and see the world.
Our life with Ragamuffin went on this way for a number of years. But as is generally the case in life, something happened to interrupt this idyll. That something was a decision for us to move back to my wife’s home Singapore.
After some discussion, my wife and I decided to go ahead and bring Ragamuffin with us to Singapore. What that entailed is another story and will need another piece to do it justice. The reader will have to wait a little while for that essay.
In those days, I was more health conscious, and my wife and I would often walk the length of the road, which meandered around Shouson Hill through a peaceful neighborhood far from the hustle and bustle of Central on the north side of Hong Kong.
I generally took a Maglite flashlight with me for reasons of illumination and protection. There were a number of building sites along the road which sometimes had watch dogs wandering around them. Although these animals were supposed to be scary, they generally made more noise than trouble. However, should a particular canine feel a little more frisky than usual, a flash of light in his eyes and a swift whack would give him reason to beat a hasty retreat.
Along most of the road were sidewalks for the few pedestrians who might wish to exercise or visit friends in neighboring apartment blocks. Since it was on a hill, there was a distinct incline as we started out on our walks. This leveled out at the top and gave way to a noticeable decline after that. As we trudged up the concrete path I would use my flashlight to scan the path just ahead of us.
Some minutes into one of our walks, I noticed a small object straight in front of us. It had the look of a pile of dog-doo, and I warned my wife to be careful where she stepped. As I got closer to pile, and were about to step around it, I noticed that it was not a pile of poo at all. Rather there was a lone little kitten curled up and shaking on the sidewalk. It was a truly pitiful sight.
We stopped and had a closer look at the poor thing. It was so small that it would have fit easily into the palm of my hand. After a short discussion, we decided to take it back to our place. I wrapped it up in a small face towel, which I had with me, and turned back for home.
When we got back to our apartment we gently cleaned up the little thing. Then we put a small saucer of warm milk in front of the kitten, but it was too weak to move so we fed it a small amount of milk with an eyedropper, and it even had trouble swallowing that. Figuring that the best thing for it was rest, we put it in a shoe box with some old socks and towels and left it to sleep. Once this was done, we discussed things and decided that if the kitten made it through the night, come the morning, we would take it to a nearby veterinarian on Blue Pool Road.
When we woke up, the kitten was still with us so off we went to the vet. He was an elderly Scotsman who had been practicing in Hong Kong for some 40 years and had seen just about everything to do with small animals. While waiting to see him, I noticed a poster on his wall which said, “No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.” From that moment, I knew that I was going to like him.
Once we got in to see the vet we told him our story and let him know we wanted to help the animal. He had a look at the kitten and, while started his checkup by pulling a long worm out of her bottom. After this, he looked up at us with a knowing smile and said something to the effect that “If you go around picking up such kittens in Hong Kong you will have a full house very quickly.” There was a mixture of kindness and advice in his voice.
Once the vet had taken care of the cat, we took her back home, and continued feeding her with an eyedropper as well as making sure she was warm and secure. We thought she should have a name so we called her Ragamuffin.
Things went on this way for a day or two when one night we heard a bumping/thumping noise and then a pitiful wailing from Ragamuffin. We went into the bathroom, where we kept her box, and she was shaking and had peed all over herself. Given her harsh beginnings, we were not sure what had brought on the fit, so back we went to the vet to see if he could help us.
We described the episode to the vet and he determined that Ragamuffin had epilepsy. The vet advised that while fairly common in dogs, epilepsy was rare in cats. He had personally never seen it before. He had an anti-epilepsy medicine for dogs, but there was nothing specifically for cats. The vet gave us some dog pills for the disease, but warned there was the possibility that the cat would react badly to them so we should be ready for that eventuality. As anyone who has had a cat knows, cats are very odd creatures, and can be sickened by many things that would not hurt a dog or a human.
We took the pills home, and began the lifelong practice of treating her epilepsy. We broke the pills into quarters and began the experiment to find out the dosage which would best control Ragamuffin’s epilepsy, yet not incapacitate her. This took a number of weeks to determine. I can well remember sticking the medicine in her mouth and making sure she swallowed it. This would take several attempts because, as anyone who has had a pet knows, they don’t like being force fed such things and will constantly try to spit the medicine out of their mouths. Ragamuffin never got completely comfortable with the procedure, but she began to accept it with a bit more grace as time went by.
Gradually, Ragamuffin grew stronger and became more responsive. She grew very close to us and felt secure only in our presence. She didn’t like to see anybody else and would disappear under our bed if we had visitors to our apartment. Once, when looking for her under the bed, I could not find her, but noticed that there was a very small sagging in the lining of our box spring. I looked closer and that sagging was Ragamuffin. She had found a small hole in the bottom lining of our box springs and enlarged it so that she could crawl up into it and disappear. This spot clearly gave her a feeling of security and it would become her place of refuge until she finally grew up, got too heavy, and the lining gave out.
People who have pets will know that special bonds can be formed between the pet and owner. This was the case with Ragamuffin and us. Normally, Ragamuffin was most comfortable resting at the foot of our bed or in between my wife and me. But this changed when I felt ill. During those times, she would snuggle up next to me and rest her head on my side, as if to comfort me. How she knew I felt bad, I will never know.
Early on, we were worried Ragamuffin might be lonely and tried to bring in a friend for her i.e. we got another cat. This did not go down well. She hissed spit and was generally unfriendly to the poor feline we had brought in, who wanted nothing more than to play. In the end, we had to give up and remove the new cat. Once it was out of our home, Ragamuffin was back to normal and affectionate as usual.
Not only was Ragamuffin affectionate, she was also the most intelligent cat I have ever seen.
In those years, I traveled at least 50 % of the time. Ragamuffin didn’t like this at all. She would generally disappear under the bed for some time when I returned from a trip. After one trip, I had just come through the front door when my wife came to greet me. This time, instead of letting Ragamuffin run under the bed, my wife had picked her up and brought her into the front hall. As I said hello to the cat, she gave me an imperious look and slowly turned away from me. Ragamuffin was so mad at me that she wouldn’t look at me. This was quite amazing. Even more amazing, and funny, was the fact that as she turned away from me I could see her looking at me form the corner of her eye to check whether or not I was still focused on her. I had to laugh out loud as I had never seen anything like this in my life. Once Ragamuffin had made her point and I acknowledged she was the center of attention, she forgave me and let me take her from my wife. Of course the cat was magnanimous enough to let me scratch her under her chin for some seconds.
I was only half joking when I would say that Ragamuffin was the world’s most expensive cat.
In those years, I was often able to take my wife with me on such trips, as we had no children. This was a very nice situation to be in, but Ragamuffin complicated things. With her shyness and need for daily medicine, we could not just leave her alone or at some cat hotel. Therefore, if my wife wanted to continue traveling with me, we had to find a solution. The solution was that we hired a Filipina amah (maid) to live with us and take care of the cat when we were away. It took several months for Ragamuffin to become accustomed to the amah, but we were lucky in our choice of maids as she was a wonderful woman who had a kind heart and loved animals. In time, Ragamuffin accepted the amah although she never treated her with the respect she accorded my wife and me. In any case, my wife was again able to travel with me and see the world.
Our life with Ragamuffin went on this way for a number of years. But as is generally the case in life, something happened to interrupt this idyll. That something was a decision for us to move back to my wife’s home Singapore.
The first point was the cost of shipping the cat to Singapore by airfreight. Such a thing is not cheap and requires a fair amount of coordination. But that was not the real problem. This was the fact that Singapore’s laws regarding the importation of pets was basically the same as the U.K.’s i.e. any pet which one wished to bring into Singapore had to be kept in quarantine for six weeks time. This was expensive, but more importantly, it was a real trauma for an animal to be caged for such a long period and would be even more so for Ragamuffin.
After some discussion, my wife and I decided to go ahead and bring Ragamuffin with us to Singapore. What that entailed is another story and will need another piece to do it justice. The reader will have to wait a little while for that essay.
