She places one foreleg onto my forearm, nestling it just in the crook of my arm, proceeding then to place her dainty chin on her paw, purring with love. She smells like cotton, feels like it too, so soft, nothing the most expensive fabric could possibly replicate. Her name is Sayang, which means love.
She is not the prettiest cat in the world, there are far prettier ones. She is not of exquisite pedigree, nothing a feline fancier would take a shine to. She is just herself, loving, showing it through hugs and purrs and meows for attention.
Sayang has just turned a year old, although we cannot ascertain her exact birth date. I worry about her even at her age, worry that she might die young, worry that she might fall sick, sorry that I cannot afford to be more paranoid. For now, she warms my lap, happy, contented, probably happier now than she was when she was just born in the streets.
She may not be my first cat, but she is the first one that I chose to take home, without discussion with anyone else in the household, because I could not stand for her to have one more night alone and sick in her boarding pen. She is my first purring cat, one who loves hugs, so opposite from Slinky who is no doubt still very special to me, but Sayang will always be irreplaceable for her loving personality.
I remember the time she first came on heat, earlier than we had expected, when she was about five months old. She couldn't help meowing all night, she couldn't help being in need, and Slinky the queen of aloofness Herself, even went over to lick Sayang in concern. When we brought Sayang home from her spaying surgery, I remember weeping to see her in drowsy pain, but knowing that the procedure would save her from more pain for the rest of her life.
Sayang is an absolutely amazing cat. I love her to bits and hope she remains in my life for the next ten years and onward.
Happy Birthday Sayang.
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