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| Name: |
Squirr
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Age: |
Three years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Persian, Singapura Mix
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| Home: |
Singapore
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I
feel that there's definitely something very special and humane about
this fine specimen of a feline (Sorry, pardon me for owner's pride).
Each night when my girlfriend and I go to sleep Squirr is there
sleeping alongside us, I guess that's common enough for loving cats.
But each morning, always around the time we're supposed to wake up, he
is there acting as our "live" alarm clock. He squeezes between us,
wedging himself in the tiniest space between us and place his snout
under either one of our chins. He makes sure each of us gets a fair
piece of him, really. And if that doesn't work in grabbing our
attention, he proceeds to clamber up above our heads and I feel the
gentlest caress on my cheek, I always open my sleepy eyes to see a
large fat paw with its claws carefully sheathed. That is the reason
why I say he's really humane... he uses his forepaws like human hands.
Even during the course of our sleep, I often wake up to see he has his
arms/legs around us, you know, the way a human hugs another. He
doesn't just curl up beside you, he stretches his limbs over
our arms or stomach and tucks his chin into our necks.
Another way humans show their affection is through kisses. Well, he
does that. I mean, he doesn't have lips to kiss with, but he has his
own way. You could be sitting across the room, all you have to do is
call him, look straight into his eyes, and the next thing you know, he
would make a beeline for you, or rather, your face, and then even if
you're sitting high, he just stands on his hind legs, places his fat
paws on your lap, and bumps into your face or lips with his whole
face, straight on. He does this often, no matter how lazily he was
originally lying. So you see, he somehow learned the human expression
of love.
He doesn't stay home all the time. We stay in a high-rise flat on the
seventh story and many afternoons he will work his own way down to
search for outdoor entertainment. When we come home at night, we only
have to walk down the staircase calling his name and he would respond
by meowing, then out of nowhere he would come scurrying. But there was
once when he did not appear for three days. We were worried sick. On
the fourth day, we found him lying weakly on the sixth storey. Upon
checking he had very badly scarred paw pads and was limping badly. We
were so touched. He was so badly hurt but had made it up twelve
flights of stairs all by himself, the stairs which he had to take one
step at a time even under normal circumstances. He took the journey
all because he wanted to get home no matter what it cost him. I
suppose to him, this is where home is and where his heart truly
belongs.
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