I’ve been around the internet long enough to know one thing. All respectable websites, blogs, and photo albums have one thing in common. Cats. So here’s mine.

One Year Ago…

This…

entered our lives. It wasn’t exactly a graceful entrance, but after having this rug live with us for the past year, I’m not surprised.

A year ago, Dan and I were driving home on one of the busiest streets in Davao. Traffic in the other lane, including an ambulance, slammed on their brakes, and all we could see was a little fuzzy critter running around in a panic. “Ew, a rat!” was my first thought, based on the size and color, but as we got closer, Dan said, “It’s a kitten!”. Oh boy. I couldn’t handle watching a kitten get run over, which judging from the numerous striped smears that appear on the roads here, happens regularly. I just closed my eyes (Dan was driving, not that it would matter), and cringed, waiting for it to be over. Dan got out of the car, and started zigging and zagging between the cars, chasing this thing all over. The ambulance driver kept asking, “Where is it, where is it?!?” and Dan finally cleared him to take off. The jeepneys in the far right lane also began to roll, and all I heard was Dan yell, “Awww….you hit him!” Dang it. My eyes still covered, I heard a kitten meowing, Dan open our car door, and say “Here, hold this!”. I expected to open my eyes to a pile of entrails sitting in my lap. No quite, but he was in rough shape. His back legs and tail were tucked under and not moving, not surprising when a giant truck runs over your backside.

We called Dr. Ken, our vet, from the road, told him we had a smushed kitten, and he reluctantly said, “bring him in…I’ll look at him”. I found out later he had the same mental image that I did. I didn’t hold out much hope, but thought it he was beyond repair, at least he could be, ahem, “taken care of” humanely. We got him there, and after a close exam, we discovered there were no broken bones, no major trauma, he was undoubtedly sore, but seemed to otherwise be OK. “So, what are you going to name him?” Dr. Ken asked. “Ohhh noooo” I said, “We just rescued him. We already have one cat, that’s enough. We’re not really cat people, we’ll find him a home”. “OK, well in case you decide to keep him, bring him in for another exam and his first shots next week” Dr. Ken said with a smirk. He knew Peter’s fate. Peter was the “temporary” name the kids gave him, after the Spiderman shaped logo on his forehead. Needless to say, Dan’s bonding experience after saving Peter’s life didn’t allow for him to find a new home. Dan said that after the jeepney rolled over his backside, Peter lunged at the back tire in full attack mode, and that’s what hooked him. But the next kitten that runs into traffic is on it’s own. Maybe.

So today, the little scrawny Peter we scraped off the street weighs a ridiculous amount, I refuse to weigh him in fear of shame. One of our Filipina friends still swears he must have come with us from the States, because no cat in the Philippines is that big. He spends most of his days lying on our bathroom floor, usually in the damp shower. I guess it’s cooler, but definitely a unique place for a cat to hang out. Like most kitties, his level of affection is a reverse ratio of the level of food in his cat dish. Less food, more affection. Cats speak the language everywhere in the world.  We’ve never been “cat people”, but Peter has managed to find his chunky way into our lives. So while I joke about waking up and rescuing kittens in the mission world, I guess the joke’s on us. 🙂