Keiko-Kenji was my little stray in Singapore, my favorite of the group. Louise and I both coincidentally gave him a Japanese name starting with K; I called him Keiko, she called him Kenji. He was a small cat, very dainty, with black and white markings that were almost like checks. He had bright green eyes. Like many cats here he only had a stub of a tail, and when he was happy it would move in a little circle. It looked just like a paintbrush working away.
He always trotted down the sidewalk happily to greet me and escort me to his "home" at the end of the street. He loved to be petted; he especially loved to be petted while he ate. He was afraid of other passers-by, so he hid behind me to eat his dinner, figuring I guess that I would protect him. If only I could have.
He preferred to have his canned food and dry food mixed together. If I gave him just one, he'd sniff at it, look at me, and then wait patiently for part two. Then he would eat while making noises deep in his throat. Every so often, he'd look up from his food and meow to be petted. If I started to leave before he was finished eating, he'd follow me. He often sat on the corner and watched me walk away; half a block from his spot I'd turn around and still he'd be there, watching me leave.
He loved to play. Sometimes he raced around on the grass nearby chasing bugs or leaves; sometimes he would bat at the moving bits of foliage. He had a spot for napping, near a tree that had a picket fence around it, and when I came early I could usually find him there. When I called his name he always leaped up and ran to me with that happy little trotting gait. Then he rubbed himself against me over and over again, purring.
He was a funny guy and a little nutty. Even when he had a plate of food in front of him already, he'd run up to me when I called "Here, Kitty" to let the other cats know I was there. He had a certain spot that he liked to use for a dining table, and if I put the food anywhere else he'd look at me mournfully until I moved it. He ate his food like this: one bite of dry food, one bite of canned food. He'd alternate until it was gone.
He never had a cat toy, or a soft bed, or a clean source of drinking water, or shelter from the rain. I'm sure he was plagued by fleas, and I'm sure that he ate many an ant while gulping down his cat biscuits.
This loving, charming cat was no doubt cruelly killed by the sick bastard who has been stalking and killing the cats in various other parts of Singapore, and who stalked Beach Road before some years back.
For the rest of my life, I will never forgive myself for not getting him out of this Auschwitz for cats in time.
NOTE from Susie: If you aren't aware who Jana and/or Keiko (the Cats' Voice mascot) are, I invite you to go to
Cats' Voice in Singapore. And before leaving, meet our little
Tigger and
Missy, beloved playmates of Keiko's.
