Let's talk about Cats: Mugabe

Mugabe came to me by accident.

No, I mean not actual accident. More like, he emerges out of nowhere and came into my life. It would be more interesting if the word "Mugabe" can be replaced with "Leonardo DiCaprio", but then again, I would not trade Mugabe for anything.

If you're my Facebook friends, you will know how much I talk about the little black terror. It's because unlike all of my previous cats, he came to me. There I was, chatting with my agent, Abang Long while signing some books that were purchased online by readers (you can call/Whatsapp Abang long at 019-2254910, sempat aku iklan), when suddenly a black kitten emerged from the drain, meowing at me and sat next to me.

"Kucing awak ke?" Abang Long asked.
"Taklah. Ini baru pertama kali nampak," I said.

So after he left, I went inside and scooped up some cat snacks for him. I put it on the floor outside the house and he ate it. He never left since then.

That was three years ago, and since then Mugabe has been a part of the family. He was also the first black cat I ever had. I always wanted one.... a black cat, I mean. It's just that I never came across one. I never buy cats (I am more of the adopt strays kind of person, and I prefer adopting cats from my own neighbourhood. I mean, there are a lot of strays here that need care, why would I go elsewhere for it?), and the neighbourhood never really had black strays before.

I always find black cats intriguing, for the fact that it can never charm someone the same way any other cats do. It is well known fact that black cats are the ones who get euthanised the most at the impound because they are always the last choice when it comes to adoption. Maybe because some people still have that superstition about black cats being bad luck (I beg to differ, since Youtuber Steve Cash makes his cash by featuring his talking black cat Sylvester in his videos), or because they are just not the preference.

Being dark-skinned myself, I know that feeling, somehow.

But things are changing nowadays. People are starting to love black cats, and I guess Toothless from "HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON" has something to do with it. But I do have to agree, that black cats are not for everyone. Though not all of them are the same, most black cats are loud. They talk. I mean, meowing is one thing, meowing repeatedly from the front door to the kitchen is another. They're not suitable for people who love peace and quiet.

I love peace and quiet. BUT I also love talking to cats. And Mugabe was perfect for me. I mean, that maybe the reason why Steve Cash's Sylvester was a great choice for talking cats as well. They always reply to you.

This is my daily conversation with Mugabe.

"Bay, ko nak makan ke?"
"Meow."
"Nak makan apa?"
"Meow."
"Itu tak ada. Whiskas je ada. Whiskas nak?"
"Meoooowwww.. Wow wow wow..."
"Yela, aku bagi la ni. Tak payah membebel."
"Wouuuu...."
"Pfft. Tak payah nak merajuk."
"Meow..."
"Lepas makan keluar tau?"
"Wouuu."

It's fun. He always reply. ALWAYS.

Despite their talkativeness ('despite', because most people hate noisy cats, so it's considered a disadvantage, no matter how much I beg to differ), one thing I can say. Black cats are awesome hunters. When Mugabe was around a lot, our house was free from pests. Rats, roaches, lizards, you name it, he caught it. You don't have to wait for him to do it. If you saw a roach on top of the cupboard, you just put him in front of the cupboard, and he will strike. It's like I have my own pest controlling machine, charged only with cat food!

He is also the worst when it comes to self-harm. In only three years, he had:
1. Fractured his hindleg while jumping from the roof (he limps slightly now)
2. Got a hole behind his neck from a fight (treated and cured)
3. Got a hole in his head from another fight (stitched twice, after he tear the first one)
4. Injected to avoid liver disease after licking on white paint, that is after his body was smeared in one
5. Twice being warded for health reasons
6. Numerous vet visit because of numerous other cat's diseases

That time when he got stitches for the hole in his head

That time his fur was shaved after falling into white paint

But he's not around that much anymore. He rarely comes home nowadays. If you try to make him stay home, he will meow his eyes out. Last time, when he was supposed to stay home after getting stitches for his head, he tried to escape the cage by butting his head on the door, and then looked at me, as if saying, "It's either you let me out, or I will make another hole in my head. Choose, bitch."

Asshole.

"I'm amazing and you know it."