Screams and whines in the night
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Thep attempts to keep away a rival while Wan-Wan wants to play with a young hippo
THE SCREAMS in the night are so sudden, so piercing, that we are all jolted out of our sleep. Wan-Wan, my poodle pup, sleeping on the side of the bed, is so startled that she falls to the floor with a heavy thud.
I hear her gasp from the fall. Then she begins whining, but not in pain.
She’s giving me her special whine, as in “Oh, help the poor cats!”
I listen more carefully. The screams, which haven’t stopped, are coming from two really angry cats outside. I even recognise one of the screamers – Thep the soi cat, who thinks my home is his special hotel.
Thep thinks he owns the soi, and when a new tom moved into his territory a few months ago, Thep took steps to remove the “enemy”.
The boy hasn’t been successful. The newcomer, who is probably two or three kilos heavier than he is, regularly beats him up. Last month, Thep even spent some time at the clinic so that the vet could treat him for scratches all over his body. His neck and shoulders had to be shaved to make it easier to treat his wounds.
The scratches weren’t deep, and Thep returned home within a few days. His fur has started to grow back, but he still doesn’t look much like a cat, more like a small-sized monster with a skin disease.
In the middle of the night, though, I don’t go out to rescue Thep. I’m more concerned about Wan. She must have hurt herself badly when she fell off the bed.
Poor Wan has had a difficult time recently. My next-door neighbour Khun J has just acquired a new dog, a tiny one-month-old puppy, a boy named “Hippo”.
Mee, her resident part-chow, isn’t too happy. She hasn’t hurt the puppy, though. This intelligent dog knows that Hippo belongs in the house, but it’s still hard on her, sharing J with a newcomer.
To me, one month is too soon to separate a pup from its mother. It hasn’t had the chance to acquire all the immunities from its mother’s milk. It’s so fragile too.
J hasn’t really said where she got the boy, or rather, she’s told each person a different story. To me, she says she got him from the pound. To others, she says a friend gave him to her.
I don’t know if Hippo has been treated for worms or fleas, even though he’s still too young to be vaccinated.
There’s no way I’ll allow Wan to play with Hippo right now.
I’d rather wait and see if the little pup stays healthy. I’d also wait until he’s had all his vaccinations.
Wan doesn’t understand all the hesitation. She hears and smells Hippo, and she wants him as a friend.
“Oh, a baby! A baby!” she whines when she hears him squeak.
At first, I don’t think that Wan has been injured by her fall from the bed, but the next morning, she’s limping badly. I give her some painkillers, and wait to see what happens next.
I don’t have to wait long. J puts Hippo out on the patio. The baby whines to come inside. Wan races outside to the whining baby. Right. No limp.
From inside the house, J yells: “Hippo! Keep quiet!” but Hippo continues to cry. J’s manner of training dogs never was never successful on Mee, and it doesn’t work on Hippo either. He keeps on crying.
As for Thep, he comes inside for breakfast but barely eats, rushing outside to guard the soi against the newcomer.
Some say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again, but expecting different results each time.
Thep must be one crazy cat.
