Love Is A Five-letter Word

Follow your heart, but be quiet for a while first. Ask questions, then feel the answer. Learn to trust your heart.

We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy.

Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do.

I don't believe you have to be better than everybody else. I trust that you have to be better than you ever thought you could be.

Trust the instinct to the end, though you can render no reason.

- Thinkexist, The World Wide Web

Mew Shoo Found His Moo Shoo Back (and saying farewell is so hard!)

Miracles in velvet mittens

Tumbled here

A pile of kittens

Skittering, scurrying

Kittens are hurrying

Chasing invisible foes

Creeping and leaping

Then finally sleeping

The picture of perfect repose

An inquisitive kitten is the best reminder of what youth is all about

When you are alone with your kitten

You don't have to act your age

The joy of my house also tiptoes from room to room on silent paws

A new kitten will turn your house upside down and at the same time make everything seen right

Nine lives added to my one life

Makes perfect sense

- The Joy of Cats, Web

Seven days ago

I woke up to the mews of a little friend that stayed over last night. He walked into Starbucks and literally into our lives. Getting to know the two terriers at home was a bit of a drama but he happily dozed off the day at home in his own blanket in our room. Eating well and drinking lots of good water. Toilet trained after one demonstration by "mummy" cat (Me!) and began to liken our feet (moving or otherwise) to targets meant for chasing and play stalking.

Within the week

Mew Shoo added so much joy into our lives. No angle or height was beyond exploration. Everything that was there was meant to be explored. He showed a great talent to cover long hours of jumping and cavorting hilariously, delighting us from dawn to dusk. He showed a good dose of self protection too, judging by his mini growl when the dogs were trying to beat down the door. When we spent our time with the dogs and were out for walks, Mew Shoo happily took care of his own time with the most effective and efficient burn of minutes - sleep. His new favourites are the rolls of towels in our bathroom, jumping onto the toilet seat (always put it down when cat is around!) to watch you in an idyllic manner while you quickly shower. The masters' furry brown carpet in the master bedroom was a great playground to exercise his imagination on stalking and fighting / ambushing his "mouse" (toy). At night when we retired to read and sleep, he would doze off under the covers, yet when his mind saw fit, it was time to play! I say, no need for a boot camp trainer, Mew Shoo ensured that I woke up in the middle of the night to fend off nips and hugs on my feet. And I surprised myself by waking up at 4am with a... smile. How could one small bundle of 500gm fur walked into my life and changed me?

Our last 48 hours together

Tears were aplenty and hard to hold back. The only thing I could do to console myself is that the better thing than the joy of fostering you, is that I know you would love your new home. There are other kittens and cats to play with, and your new master loves cats. I vetted through the different offers and knew from my gut that she is the one that I can safely and trustingly hand you over.

Childish thoughts come through my mind. Would you remember me? Would you blame me? Would you be happy? Would you still miss your mum? And as I sit here typing, with tears welding up again, I know I am thinking with my human brain. For you, my little sweet kitten has thought me with your God-given instincts that rise beyond human comprehension, that your tiny heart will one day grow even bigger, to house all the love and strength, the spirit and determination that I saw few in humans, but for these past seven days, you have reminded me, of how precious they can be.

Thank you for blessing me, us with you. I will always love you, think of you, and never forget you.

Mew Shoo (the latte cat)

Mew...

- Mew Shoo, BU Starbucks

It's been more than 24 hours since Mew Shoo literally walked into our lives. There he was, amidst the human jungle of moving legs, this tiny 500gm of fur was meandering towards the exit door. How he got there was beyond me but something that was similar to the effect of being hit by the Titanic stirred "somekind-of-a-wonderful-responsibility" inside of me. Call it getting older, call it getting mellow (do I start to sound like a good bottle of wine?) but I had to pick him up and thought of finding him a home later. Should I have walked out of there, telling myself that was a cute kitten but "it'll be all right" I don't think I could have survived the impending storm that took place later that night.

And yes, the booms and baams of the evening's storm stirred the tempestuous soul of Lady Night but Mew Shoo was warmly tucked in his own blanket, oblivious to her callings. He was, after all, tired of adventure and longing for water and food which were given promptly. He was checked by the vet before I took him home and he came out with a sterling record of health and cleanliness.

Of course the search for a good home for him began earnestly in immediate effect. We both took a special liking to him. Our dogs too, although in different interpretation of affection. Ours was coo-ing, theirs... a lot of barking and territorial muscle flexing.

We'll keep you posted and hopefully that Mew Shoo will find his moo-shoo soon.

After all, isn't the smallest creature mean something in this whole balance of stage play we call life? Fingers crossed, we need your well wishes. Get out there and make a difference yourself too! You'll be surprised by what a mewing 500gm can change your own beliefs and stress levels too at that!

Until next week, here's to you and me, and all dogs and cats on earth and heaven.

Why Always That Question?

Thirty five is when you finally get your head together and your body is falling apart.

- Caryn Leschen, USA

As I sit here on a quiet, humidly lazy mid-morning, nothing quite reminds me of my mortality than the snoozing of my dogs (I read that they can sleep up to 13 hours a day) and the dull, but consistent hammering of the kitchen knife from the neighbour's place below... I thought chicken is nice for lunch, but poor chook.

One of the rare treats that I had last night was watching this obstacle course show aptly titled "wipeout" and I had never laughed so much in one sitting for a long time, since a while ago, and definitely not that hearty. I meant with tears coming down, body convulsing to and fro, abs crunching in pain, the soul flying free.

And I was also privileged to join the many in one of our country's great "first-in-our-self-invented-"Guinness"-book" feats, watching some model search online, everything via the very screen that you are looking at, without a touch on the television's remote controller. The show was dumb, about dumb girls, with dumb lines, with even dumber audiences that don't clap, and what did that make me - a dumb viewer? Anyway, topic for another Friday but the point was that each of these girls were asked which was their most favourite body part?

I went: As I am sure after all that Darwinistic theory on evolution and the selection of the fittest, finest, most fantastic of our species, we have come to this: the definition of the other half of Homo Sapien by one body part, no - your most favourite body part.

What were the responses?

Giggles. Sniffles. Shifting on the standing spot. Twirling of the hair. More twirling. Judges with hard stares (swore that one tried to be another Simon Cowell).

"My smile"

"My eyes"

Judges: "Why?"

"Because everyone says so", "They are so big and round", "...", *giggle*, and the list goes on.

I don't know if we should have a "most favourite" body part but perhaps that gives some sort of comfort to some that there is a part that they like amidst the many others that are WIP or just curses from the Devil.

To have almost gone blind nine years ago, I am thankful that I have my sight. To love those dogs so much that I love running with them, I am thankful for my legs. I did look down unconsciously while I waited for the lift during one of those runs, and saw those strong muscles that built up the structure that I rely for granted to stand, run, jump, walk, travel, get up, lie down, kick and fight for my square of the blanket real estate in the bed, to power up a run into the sea before I sprint off in a dive... yeah, I don't have a most favourite, I do admire my back, I have many lovely comments on my tush, I think I got small almond eyes that my mum reminded me of the phoenix legend, I have hair that sits nicely when it doesn't get humid, I have one arm that allows me to haul a bag of 10kg rice and three bags of grocery on the other arm, I can hug, I can drive.

So I think, in a few more years to come, the challenge is not about the look from your most favourite part. You just want everything to work, to be well-oiled, to propel you forward still, to the point where we all call it a day.

And that my mates, you want to call it a day done well.