Goddess, I Am.

A couple of weeks ago, The Husband rescued a little kitten from the street. The poor thing was abandoned by its mommy, and it was just lying on the gutter, dehydrated and dying. When he came home with the kitten wrapped up in his t-shirt, I nearly cried. She was so small and skinny – a lot like somebody who had way too much Lipofuze – and I was so afraid that we wouldn’t be able to save her.

Like a man possessed, The Husband fed it milk and tuna and cat food. A couple of days later, the little kitten completely took over the house. I named her Cornelia Sulla, after one of my favorite Roman dictators, Lucius Cornelius Sulla. It seemed only appropriate. ‘Princess’ has since been attached to her name because that’s what she is, a princess.

Meet Princess Cornelia. Isn’t she a pretty little thing?

She’s now about 150% bigger than she was when The Husband rescued her. She eats a lot, but she’s tired of fish now and is going through a liver pate phase. She also came completely toilet trained from day one. The Husband got her a litter box, and nobody had to teach her; she just figured it out. We have since moved the litter box to the spare bathroom, and it did not put a dent on her routine at all. She’s a smart little princess, she is.

She is, however, becoming a tad too feral these days. She’s been biting and clawing at us every chance she gets, and that is not good at all. We’re hoping she’ll grow out of it eventually. For now, we’re trying to be consistent with the discipline and distracting her with toys. Her favorite is a hollowed-out egg that The Husband made for her. The Egg even has a little face, which is probably why she likes it so much.

I’ve been meaning to post photos of her for ages, but I could never get her to sit still long enough for a photograph. But she photographs nicely, yes?

UPDATE: The Cat grew balls. So as it turns out, Princess Cornelia is actually Prince Cornelius. Said balls have since been neutered.

I might have neglected to tell everyone this, but Steve and I had a baby. In fact, we’ve had her for about two months now. Everyone, meet Pepper.

Pepper is a slow loris, a kind of primate common in most Southeast Asian countries. She’s about a foot long from head to rump, has short but soft fur, and big bug eyes that can get her anything she wants. In other words, she takes after her father.

Kidding aside, she was found wandering in an obscure Bangkok soi, obviously lost. They brought her to our old landlord, a man known in the area as a keeper of animals. Seriously, the man has several huge aviaries behind the apartment block we used to live in where he keeps about 30 species of birds, including a beautiful hornbill, guinea fowls, wild ducks and chickens, and several peacocks that seem to breed endlessly. He also has several cobras, Burmese pythons, and huge monitor lizards. All these were caught by the locals and brought to him for safekeeping. Indeed, he’s got quite a zoo out there.

But I digress. Naturally, the landlord took Pepper in and kept her in one of the smaller aviaries. She lives with chickens, doves, and the female peacocks and their chicks before they were moved elsewhere. The first time we saw her, we were in love. We considered settling her in our apartment, and we even went as far as doing the research. Since we lived in a one-room studio, however, it just didn’t seem like a good idea. I, for one, wouldn’t know how to deal with the pooping. The baby is, after all, a wild animal not commonly kept as pets, unlike dogs and cats. Besides, her aviary has trees and foliage and undergrowth where she could forage for food.

The boyfriend, fancying himself the next Steve Irwin, immediately took to his fatherly duties seriously. He has since made two shelters for her out of cardboard boxes and my old pillow where she comfortably sleeps during the day as she’s nocturnal. He’s also taken it upon himself to feed the baby in the cage while I stay outside and coo. He does all this, even when she bit him the first night. She likes cat food, milk, and, her favorite, those deep-fried grubs that they sell on the street.

We have since moved to a new apartment a good 6 kilometers away from the old one, yet we still go there about 3 or 4 times a week to feed her. We’ve actually tried buying grubs wholesale and leaving them with the old landlord’s caretakers with specific instructions to feed her one bag a day. Every time we go there, however, the stash always remains untouched. They can’t seem to get it into their heads that the baby is a carnivore, and she doesn’t like bananas. We assume she’s excellent at foraging because she still seems quite chunky, even when we don’t get to feed her everyday.

We’ve been in touch with the Wild Animal Rescue Foundation of Thailand (WARF), a conservation group that rehabilitate lost and captured slow lorises to introduce them back to the wild. The guy in charge, however, couldn’t come to Bangkok and suggested that we take the baby to Ranong ourselves where the rehab center is based. Unfortunately, Ranong is a long way from Bangkok, and we just don’t have time to do it. Neither does the landlord.

We’re hoping to get around to doing it soon as she really looks quite lonely with only chickens and doves for company. It’ll be good for her to be around her own kind. My only concern is transporting her all the way to Ranong. Slow lorises, after all, are a protected species. If we get caught with her, we might be in some serious trouble. Neither of us can speak Thai to save our lives, so we really won’t be able to effectively explain the situation to a potentially farang-hating policeman.

Here’s hoping that the folks at WARF will still take it upon themselves to come get her in Bangkok, or at least meet us halfway. I’ll keep you all posted.