Goodbye 2006 ...

It has been a catastic year for the KMM crew ...

As we bid adieu to 2006, we pray that in the new year:

* Our community cats will be showered with never ending love and lotsa food ...



* That more of them can find nice homes to go to so that they can live in a safe environment away from harm, happily ever after ...



* That the "humane destruction" of cats be put to an end, and mass sterilisation is the way to go ...



Above all, we pray for greater tolerance, acceptance and love for all creatures big and small.

Milo's tail

From the desk of Mama Piggy:


Close-up of Milo's splayed tail.

Doesn't it bear more than a passing resemblance to this?


Come smell the flower! :)

The tables are turned

From the desk of Mama Piggy:

Remember those days when Muffin used to bully Kootoo out of his favourite snoozing spots?

Well, the Monster has turned the tables on the Terror!

A Christmas morning

From the desk of Mama Piggy:



Peace on earth.

Mewy Mewwy Christmas

From all of us at the House of Pigs:

May the new year bring joy, peace, happiness and good health to all sentient beings!

Feeding the addiction

From the desk of Mama Piggy:

Yes - we went back to Phyllis' place for another two tubs of pineapple tarts and one tub of mini kuih bahulu. Papa Porky's friend Senor Achiwawa came along too.

Look who clamoured for attention the moment we stepped into Cattery 3? Wa-dee!

Senor Achiwawa was amused by Apple Pie-pie's, er, rotundness.

And Frankie Boy shows that he is really a gentle giant :)

Till the last piece of pineapple tart, so long kitties!!

The sun is out!

From the desk of Mama Piggy:



This tipped ear ginger was enjoying the warmth of the midday sun at the coffeeshop in Lorong 8 Toa Payoh opposite my workplace.

Help the East Coast Park cats

From the desk of Mama Piggy:



The kitties are warm and snug at home, and I couldn't stop thinking of the community cats who are now braving the rain, cold and even hunger.

I fed Milo's mummy at the multi-storey carpark after coming home from work. She was ravenous. But how many cats are as "lucky" as her to have someone feed her everyday?

I wonder how the cats at East Coast Park are coping in this heavy downpour.

DDXiong is raising funds to help manage the cat population at East Coast Park. She is appealing for contributions toward the cause, so if you could spare some cash, please render your support.

Visit to Phyllis

From the desk of Mama Piggy:



Finally, the scrapbook for Phyllis was completed after months of procrastination ...

She was thrilled to bits when we gave it to her this afternoon ^_^



I was surprised that Mei-Mei still remembered that Muffin was called Pan-Pan!!

We said hello to the meows in the cattery too, and saw this super manja kitty clinging on to Mei-Mei like a baby!
(Update: It's a she-kitty! Her name is Wa-Dee and she is up for adoption, see her profile here .



Her paw looked like it's been dipped in white paint. Cute!

The cats were happy to see visitors on a quiet afternoon, and Yoga kept nibbling at my toes =_=

We bought some goodies in support of PawPledge cattery.

The pineapple tarts are in the shape of flowers, nice to see, yummy to eat!!

See PawPledge for more details on the Christmas Bake Sale!

You can run ...

From the desk of Mama Piggy:




... but you can't hide!

This morning *someone* broke Papa Porky's treasured mug from the UK ... Be afraid, be very afraid!!

A Glorious Sunday

From the desk of Mama Piggy:



Milo basking in the sun on the window sill.

I will be back to work tomorrow, after a two-week absence!

Look Ma(ma Piggy) ...

... no head!!!



Heheh.

Of Colour and Breed

From the desk of Mama Piggy:

Self-proclaimed cat minion Calsifer, chieftain of the Tipped Ear Clan, has written a wonderful summary on cat breeds, patterns and colours.


Aren't we all the same, under all that coloured fuzz?

For those of us who can’t quite tell the difference between a Tortoiseshell and a Calico, please spend sometime reading it, there are pictures too.

So, coming straight to my point – are “breeds” important when it comes to owning/adopting a cat?

You bet, which is why some people prefer to buy pedigrees from pet shops. I guess a Norwegian Forest or two looks good in the house, and it sure feels great to have a Ragdoll that’s putty in your arms. If you have the resources and prefer “branded” cats to moggies, sure, by all means, go get your pedigrees.

Now, before you start dissing me for insinuating that those who buy pedigrees are pretentious snobs, let me tell you this - I used to go gaga over pedigrees too. In fact, my sister and I were so besotted with long-hair cats that we got a Chocolate-point Persian (think long-hair Siamese cat). We called him Cubie, and he was a really pretty cat with a mild temperament. Now a geriatric at 17 years old, Cubie is in relatively good health and is staying with my sister and her three other rescue cats.

When I decided to get a cat after I got my own place, it didn’t cross my mind to get another pedigree. Why buy one when you can adopt? There are countless community cats out there who need a home! Plus, our local “breeds” are equally beautiful and hardy!


The tigers have taken possession of the coffee-table.

So I got Kootoo from the SPCA, and some friends asked why I adopted such a “common” cat. Tsk tsk. Sure, Kootoo is a “common” striped-cat (or from what I have learnt, a Mackerel tabby). He is what most people would label a “longkang” cat (alley cat). But does that matter? I don’t care if he is a Domestic Short Hair, or simply a Tabby, or whatever. He may be “common” to most people, but he is special to me. I could have gotten the most gorgeous looking purebred but what’s the point if we don’t learn to accept each other for who we are, and learn to accommodate each other’s habits and whims?

Our three lovely cats have given us a lot of joy (we’ll talk about the mess they’ve created another time, eh? :D). Every time I look into their eyes, I know I have changed their lives, and that makes me happy.

Couch potatoes

From the desk of Mama Piggy:


Have been strongly advised by the Doc to just sit back and relax and let the body heal itself.




So what's Mama Piggy got to do but join the layabouts in their couch siesta?

The Devil wants to wear Prada

From the desk of Mama Piggy:

Had the stitches removed today, and went for some retail therapy after that :)

But post-operation fatigue struck, so it's back to home sweet home for rest, rest and more rest :(

Came across this quiz What Tarot Card Are You? while surfing the net, and decided to give it a go.

Guess I need to get my Pradas soon, if the result is anything to go by ;)

You are The Devil

Materiality. Material Force. Material temptation; sometimes obsession

The Devil is often a great card for business success; hard work and ambition.

Perhaps the most misunderstood of all the major arcana, the Devil is not really "Satan" at all, but Pan the half-goat nature god and/or Dionysius. These are gods of pleasure and abandon, of wild behavior and unbridled desires. This is a card about ambitions; it is also synonymous with temptation and addiction. On the flip side, however, the card can be a warning to someone who is too restrained, someone who never allows themselves to get passionate or messy or wild - or ambitious. This, too, is a form of enslavement. As a person, the Devil can stand for a man of money or erotic power, aggressive, controlling, or just persuasive. This is not to say a bad man, but certainly a powerful man who is hard to resist. The important thing is to remember that any chain is freely worn. In most cases, you are enslaved only because you allow it.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Murder, He Wrote

From the desk of mortified Mama Piggy:



This, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the face of a killer.

A small bird (I believe it belongs to the hummingbird family with its long, curved beak. You're not expecting me to post a photo of the lifeless victim, ARE YOU?!?) happened to perch on our window grille and before you could blink your eyes, Kootoo Boy had it between his fangs.

Pure basic instincts at work, no fowl play suspected.

At least, this is what I think happened, because yours truly was checking on the other two kitties who were doing their WWF thang on my bed when suddenly I heard the sound of sharp claws on cold steel (okay, okay, our window grille is aluminium, but steel sounds more drama, heh). I shuffled out to the hall, and the gruesome sight of Kootoo stuffing a green birdie into his mouth greeted me.

By the time Papa Porky wrestled the limp thing from Kootoo's grasp, it was already dead with a broken neck.

The window is being fully meshed up as I type, to prevent the loss of innocent aviary lives.

Om Mani Padme Hum.

Rambling thoughts from a Cystic Patient – Part II

From the desk of Mama Piggy:

“You look miserable!”, quipped my gynae as she visited me in the ward the morning after.

I like her, this straight-talking, no-nonsense doctor. Ribbing me for not looking like a million dollars 12 hours after stitching me up!

“Nausea,” I whimpered. Cold sweat glistened on my forehead.

Seeing that my IV needle had been taken out (it was bothering me somewhat with intermittent pain), the doc ordered for a “suppository”. A WHAT?!?

Before I knew it, the nurse came to me with a big white capsule and ordered me to turn over.

“What THE …?!?!?”

Yes, she shoved it up where the sun doesn’t shine.

Some 10 minutes later, I barfed and felt better.

But the effect didn’t last very long.

In fact, I was hit by waves of nausea and giddiness every hour.

* * * * *

Given a choice, I think I would gladly choose pain over nausea.

I had felt fine when I was wheeled out of the OT the night before. The anaesthesia was beginning to wear off, and I could feel some pain in my lower abdomen.

But it got progressively worse that I had to ask for a shot.

Being allergic to a certain family of painkillers, I was given morphine. And while it did zap the pain, it made me woozy.

I was given a jab for nausea at 1 am. But by 2 am, I was in an awful and clammy state. I buzzed the nurse for another jab.

“No, cannot! That one is only once in every 6 hours! I’ll prop you up, try and take deep breaths, you will feel better,” the staff nurse clucked. Great. INHALE. EXHALE.

For the rest of the morning, I broke out in cold sweat at the top of every hour. Deep breaths!

* * * * *

The kitties love the fruit baskets that Mama Piggy received.

A strange side effect of the operation was shoulder pain. Must ask the Doc why when I go back to remove the stitches.

When I got home on Tuesday afternoon, I basically shuffled around the house like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The kitties stared at me, wide-eyed -_-

By late evening, I was less groggy, and could sit with the cats. Save for frisky Milo, I swear that Kootoo and Muffin could sense that I was unwell (maybe I appear like a maimed animal to them) and were extra sweet to me. Not ingrates afterall :)