Tua Pui the Chubby Cat

Gray and white friendly tom cat on the beach. Photo by Doris Lim

There was a little crack at our metal door leading to the back lane, which Dad never got around to fixing.

Mother would nag daily. “The rats will gnaw their way through”, she’ll start. Then snakes will come in, monitor lizards too. Maybe crocodiles with sharp teeth, I thought. Horrified.

My brothers’ ears prick up at that. They thought to themselves, we could capture and keep these as pets. We could capture, use them to form a circus. We could capture and use it to terrify Dee Dee then cook it for her dinner.

So they chose to watch the going-ons at the “hole” instead or playing war games with their friends. After a week of mindless waiting, the boys soon give up.

Craggy tom cat, Sg. Bakap. Photo by Doris Lim

I would only go into the kitchen and use the toilet if my sisters or Mother accompanies me. One day, I cried and demand that my potty be placed in the living room. The “hole” looks large and looms with dark creatures with sharp teeth.

I would glance nervously every time I go to the bathroom. Bathing in my iron tub was a quick affair. I’ll climb out covered with suds at times. I’ll cry pitifully if the tub was place too close to that “hole”. My mother puts a stop to this after a week of my constant whimpering. She hammers a nail into the bathroom door post and hangs up the viper cane. That settles it.

Bath time returns to a quiet, co-operative affair. My lips purses into a thin line, my eyes huge pools of silent protest.

That morning, I let out a shriek. Mother stops scrubbing me and to turns me around roughly. I didn’t care. I refuse to budge and let out another shriek and point to the “hole”. There’s a little white paw. It gingerly inches its way in and pads around.

Friendly cats in Istanbul. Photo by Lee Fock Cheran

Hush… Mother said, watching it intently. It’s a little kitten, she whispers in my ear. I think it wants to come live with us.

It was a Tuesday when “tua pui” came to live with us. He was so scrawny, dirty smelly and sick that mother said we must call him “tua pui” meaning “chubby one” so he would live.

Tua Pui has an ear that flop to the back of his head. The nerve’s dead, Dad explained to us, “It just can’t stand upright like other cat’s ears, that’s all. He hears fine, don’t worry little one,” he looks tenderly at me, pulling my cheeks.

“It’s like a beauty spot,” Dad winks, looks over lovingly at Mother and points to the left corner of his own mouth. Mother has a tiny brown mole there. Dad also refers to it as her beauty spot.

Dad likes to call him Cat. My brothers call him all sorts of superhero names. My sisters ignore him completely. They hate fur. I call him, Meowmee. “He’s mine”, I’d reply with indignation, “I can call him what I like, he doesn’t mind,” with that I carry Meowmee in my toddler’s arms to my favourite corner.

Gray and white pensive tom cat on the beach. Photo by Doris Lim

Meowmee, love fish as all cats do. Mother sighs, another small one to watch over. At least bathing is not an issue. And so the little girl and Cat became the best of friends.

Doris Lim is a popular freelance writer who blogs as Little Fish on travel and food stories here. Be sure to check out her other inspiring stories and follow her Instagram @SmartDoryID & Facebook to check out more places to eat delicious street foods or dine in the best restaurants!