After much thought of what I would actually want to write about on my blog, I had this interesting idea inspired by a creative Christmas present I received from my friend, Pia. She gave me this book, called Listography, namely, a book that describes your life in lists. Each page is captioned by a new subject heading that entails various aspects of one's life. For those of you who know me, I'm very detailed and organized, and thus a book about making lists is more of an excuse to further perpetuate my "Monica" (from "Friends") characteristics. The anal in me will now be broadcasted for all to see.
As this project manifests, I hope you will learn, not only about who I am, which is also what I hope to discover further, but also about who you are and who you want to be.
Let this be a journey of discovery and let it begin with me, right now.
List 1: Pets you've had and their names
The only pets I've ever had growing up were cats. My very first cat that I can remember was a female, named Cindy. She was long and natural in color, with shades of brown and white. She had a cute pink nose which stood out against the more natural colors of her skin. I don't really remember what happened to her, except that she died. Many years later, we had another cat, thanks to my brother Anthony, who just brought one home one day as his friend had a litter full. My dad was not that impressed with him as he didn't like the idea of pets in the house. My mom, on the other hand, loves everyone and everything, except for dust and dirt. She loved our new cat. We all thought long and hard about what we would name her, but since it was Anthony's cat, he got to win the name pick. Of course, nothing my brother ever does is really conventional. Even though it was a female cat, he decided to give her a male name; and not a cool sounding pet name, but an unconventional Indian name. He loved the name, Rajeev. That is what we named her. When asked why he would pick such a name, my brother replied, "some kid in my class is named Rajeev, and I think it's cool."
Rajeev went on to have kittens, but only 2. My brother continued with his name streak, and named the others, Rojny, and Gurrinder. He had this fascination with Indian names. I apologize if the spelling is incorrect. We kept the two little ones for a while, but it was evident that they were not as well-behvaed as their mother. It appeared that one was sick as it kept slamming into the walls, and banging it's head. The other appeared to have a bit of a temper. He didn't like anyone getting too close before the claws came out. My dad, being a bit temperamental himself, decided he had enough of the two cats.
This is where the story unfolds and may be sensitive for some viewers, viewer discretion is advised!
One Saturday night my parents had a wedding to attend, and before they left, my dad had a good talk with my other brother, Frank. He told Frank to take the cats for a drive and place them in a nearby abandoned field, about 15-20minutes from home. Frank didn't like these two cats either. Frank remembered that cats had a good sense of direction, and would often find their way back home if strayed. Frank decided to take the highway, stating, "let them find their way home, now." As Frank was driving the cats to their new home, he nearly got killed himself. Of course, my brother, as smart as he is, is not always the most organized or planned person in the world. He placed the cats in his car without having them placed in a box where they couldn't get loose. The cats were simply let loose to their own devices in the back seat. Frank wasn't expecting them to climb up the passenger seat and right into his lap, or worse yet, crawl towards the break pedal. As Frank was driving along the highway, this tractor trailer was coming onto the on-ramp and didn't see my brother in his blindspot. My brother honked his horn and tried slamming his breaks, but to no avail at first, as one of the cats was blocking his way. Frank tried to kick the cat out of the way, which he did, and managed to evoke shreeks of dismay. Frank slammed on the breaks again and swerved out of harm's way. Frank was not impressed, and needless to say he blamed his near death experience all on the cats, of course. Frank finally reached his destination point.
While coming out of the car, Frank was calling the cats' names in the hopes that they would join him outside. The cats were too smart, and figured out something wasn't quite right, because they refused to answer his call.
As Frank looked back, he saw that the cats were scared and didn't want to exit the vehicle. They began to meow and run around the front seat. Frank's repeated cat-calling efforts had failed him. For a brief moment, he almost had a glimpse of dignity in him and thought of getting back into the car, returning home. But he thought more about what my dad would do to him if he hadn't let these cats go. Frank approached the car and gently grabbed the cats in his arms, albeit not without a cat fight ensuing. Frank got scratched; that should have taught him! He managed to let the cats go, roam free into the wild. As Frank got back into his car, the cats returned, meowing, begging him to let them back in. Without hesitation and without looking back, Frank closed the car door behind him and left.
Before my parents returned from the wedding, my brothers were both asleep. I, however, was at work, working the night shift. My dad had gone to bed, but my mom noticed that the cats weren't around. She went outside on the balcony door, calling out their names. The only one in eye sight was Rajeev. My mom spent almost 30 minutes calling out for the cats, and to no avail. A little worried, she attempted to rouse my father and told him that the cats weren't answering to her call. My dad half asleep had told my mother not to worry, and to go to bed. My mom, embracing her maternal instincts, would not give up. She shook my dad again and again, and he told her to talk to my brother. She went downstairs into my brother's room and began to wake him up. Frank, also half asleep, told her not to worry and to go to bed. My mom was insistent and would not let up. She continued to harass my brother and demanded to know where the cats were. Finally, my brother, angered by the disruption in his sleep, blurted out, "Try Mavis ma; try Mavis."
My mom, horrified of the thought, shouted out to him, "Oh no you didn't!" Frank replied, "Oh yes I did."
Mom asked why he would do such a thing, and my brother replied, "It was dad's idea. Dad told me to get rid of the cats when you went to the wedding."
Flabergasted at the thought, my mom thumped up the stairs, back to her room, woke up my dad and yelled at him for who knows how long. I heard it was a while. Early the next morning, my mom woke my brother up and made him drive her to the spot where he dropped off the cats. For over an hour, they began to call the cats one by one, and to no avail. The cats did not return.
My brother and my mom returned home. Frank was quiet, and mom was very pissed off; although she was never the type to use any foul language. As a consequence for not being able to return the cats, my mom was so upset with my brother that she did not cook for him for a whole week. He was left to his own devices.
To this day, Rajeev remains the only long-standing pet in the household.