For the past few days, I’ve been walking up and down the corridor… hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he’s not there.
Not at his usual tree house nor at the spot. I was getting upset and concern.
Then yesterday… I saw the window open. The window beside the cat house. The one he normally climbs through before waiting there like some orange Romeo.
So naturally…I peeked in. The house was empty, and goodness me. The living room is so messy.
These young people ah… don’t they know how to tidy up their house?
Clothes everywhere. Shoes nowhere near the shoe rack. And the socks…
THE SOCKS STILL ON THE FLOOR.
Absolute chaos, but my eyes were searching for only one thing.
The orange one. And then…there he was. Stretched out on the sofa in full glory… like how cats do when they trust the entire universe. One paw out. Tummy exposed. Completely relaxed.
I stood there looking at him…Longing to run my palm across that fluffy orange tummy.
Then suddenly, a voice behind me. My husband. “What are you doing?”
“Looking at the cat.”
“You cannot simply peek into other people’s house like that.”
“But the window is open… and I’m not doing anything harmful. I’m just looking at the cat.”
From down the corridor, my daughter shouted: “Maaaaaa… the lift is here!”
Just then, the orange one opened his eyes…and looked at me. Slowly, he got up, preparing to move towards the tree house. But by then, I had already started backing away. I waved goodbye to him…then ran towards the lift where my husband and daughter were waiting.
Both of them just shook their heads at me, as if I’m the problem here.
The next morning, I was about to head to the market with my daughter…and there he was. Sitting proudly on his little throne again, as if waiting for me. Not as if … actually, I’m quite sure he was waiting for me.
Cats can sense these things. When their favourite person is nearby… somehow, they just know. And honestly, this is not my first experience with such things.
Before I got married, when I was still staying with my parents, I had four cats.
All of them were extremely attached to me.
My father used to laugh and tell people: “These cats ah… will sleep on her bed or under her bed. Only come out when they want to eat or go toilet.” Then he would shake his head and say: “But suddenly… all of them will get up and wait by the main door.”
And somehow…a few minutes later, I would arrive home. They always knew.
So when I saw the orange one sitting there that morning…waiting on his throne like some fluffy little king…I knew. He had been waiting for me too 😌🐱
We locked eyes.Then slowly… he stretched out his paw towards me and extended his long orange neck that familiar gesture of trust. An invitation.
I reached out and touched him. I massaged his paw gently… then stroked that long fluffy neck of his.
And then the Prrrrrrrrrrr. Aaaaah!! The sound of a cat purring is honestly one of the most satisfying sounds on earth.
Peace.
Joy.
Healing.
I noticed something. A tracker. They had attached a tracker around his neck. I looked at him.
And immediately my brain translated his actions: Ahhhhh… so THAT’S why you were stretching your neck towards me. He was trying to tell me.
“Look what they’ve done to me.”
Now how to escape again? This time surely they can find him already. And then… the mind started “Hmmm…Can always cut off the tracker…”
At that exact moment, my daughter’s voice appeared behind me. As if she could read my thoughts directly from my face. She looked at me… then at the cat… then back at me.
Immediately she asked: “You’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do right?”
“What?”
“Cutting off the tracker.”
“Why would I think of such a thing?”
And she just gave me…that look. That deeply disappointed look people give before someone commits a crime 😌🐱
Then I casually said: “But what if the tracker… drops off by itself?”
My daughter stopped walking. “Maaa…Tracker don’t just drop off on their own.”
A pause. “Without your help.”
I gave her that look back. Then she continued: “It’s not your cat.”
To which I replied very calmly: “Well… the cat will decide whose cat he wants to be. Not for us humans to decide.”
Another long stare. Another disappointed shake of the head. “Maaaaaaaa…”
And then we continued walking towards the market together.
But honestly…my mind still could not let it go.
What if…I try to communicate mentally with him? Cats can read people’s minds. I am quite sure of this. How else do they always know? How else do they sense sadness… loneliness… the sound of their favourite person reaching home before anyone else?
Perhaps tonight…I shall attempt telepathic communication with the orange one.
Maybe I will stand quietly by the corridor and mentally project:
“Be strong. Freedom is near.” 😌🐱
May 2026
