Stories on Learning, Loving, Living

Rescue 911

2007-08-26T06:14:00.001+08:00

Saturday,
August 11, 2007.
Around 9:30pm.

The day after we rescued BamBam from under Jake's car.
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Operator: "911, what's your emergency?"
Me: "Uh, my kitten fell into a ditch and she can't climb back out. She's trying to but she just falls back into the water every time."
Operator: "How deep is the water, Ma'am?"
Me: "Water? Uhm, maybe just around an inch or two. It didn't rain today. But the ditch is around 14 or 15 feet deep with concrete walls that go straight down on either side."
Operator: "Okay. What is your exact location?"
Me: "1234 Forest Hills, Banawa."
Operator: ("All units, we have a 321* over at 1234 Forest Hills, Banawa. Victim may have sustained injuries due to the fall, possible hypothermia...") "A rescue unit is on the way, Ma'am. How long has your kitten been down there?"
Me: "I don't know... she was already in there when we arrived. She's huddled in a corner now meowing... probably cold and exhausted. I just adopted her a couple of days ago and she's sick and thin and we're still trying to nurse her back to health." ("It's okay, BamBam. Help is on the way. You'll be out of there soon. Just hang on.")
Operator: "Okay, Ma'am. Just keep talking to her and keep her calm. The rescue team should be there soon."

(SIRENS BLARING IN THE DISTANCE GETTING CLOSER AND CLOSER)

Me: "I hear them." ("You hear that, Bam? Help is almost here. You'll be okay.") "Thank you."

click
END OF CALL

*Writer's Note: 321 = rescue code for "a kitten has fallen into a 15-foot ditch with 1-2 inches of water in it and can't climb back out"

Okay, so we don't have 911 here in the Philippines. :-p And the "rescue team" was already standing there - Me and Princeton. Problem was we had no idea how we were going to do it without any equipment.

The ditch was too steep to climb down by hand, and if we did manage it we'd never be able to climb back out. It was also dark and full of rats and snakes and other unknown creatures of the night. One of our options was to wait until morning when we could call the gardener to come and get BamBam out. At least by then, the ditch would be bathed in sunlight and the beasts of darkness would be in hiding. But with her eye infection and in her undernourished state, I severely doubted she'd make it through the night in there.

We needed to find a way to do it ourselves right now.

Then I saw the old wooden ladder propped up on its side by the wall outside my room. It had been there for some time now, and I remembered that Scraggy, my previous cat, had loved playing on it, climbing up and down its steps. Ding ding ding! A plan began to take shape in my mind.

Princeton very reluctantly agreed to my plan against his better judgment. He was convinced we'd lose control of the ladder, which weighed like Megatron, and it'd fall into the abyss and rot there for all eternity. (Well, he didn't say it in those words exactly, I took the liberty of making it sound more poetic.) So we dragged the creaky artifact out of its resting place and slowly lowered it into the ditch. What followed were a few panicky moments where I began to doubt my plan and wonder if Princeton was right.

Because it would've been easier to lower Megatron into the ditch, at least he could power up and hover to lighten our load. But this old wooden relic seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, and with every inch I felt like it was trying to drag us down with it into the pitchblack mini-Amazon below us. Then all of a sudden it stopped.

By this time, BamBam had stopped meowing. She had worn herself out trying to climb up the high wall. "Bam, climb the ladder, it's just like a tree!" She didn't even look up. She just sat there hunched up with her eyes closed. "BamBam... we're up here! Look, you can use this ladder to climb up to us!" "Meow! Meow! Meow!" But she made no move.

Poof! There went my plan. I was so sure BamBam would climb up the ladder. She had tried to climb the slippery wall for heaven's sake! But she seemed oblivious to the fact that we had just provided her with a "stairway to heaven". I now had no idea what to do.

The next couple of minutes gripped me with fear and filled me with hope at the same time.

In spite of the dangers, Princeton was slowly lowering himself into the dark abyss where he had envisioned the ladder to rot for all eternity. Scary images of the old wooden ladder breaking, a giant rabid rat, and a snake winding its coils around him (although I knew there weren't any snakes that big in there) flashed through my mind followed a split-second later by a soothing realization that BamBam was going to be okay. Fear and hope, hope and fear. (Not a good combination, really. Makes you want to shit in your pants, pardon my language.)

And then I had a shivering kitten in my arms to take care of.

Is It Luck or Divine Intervention?

2007-08-25T15:26:00.002+08:00

It was around dinnertime a couple of weeks ago when Jake pulled up into his usual parking space right outside my room. His engine revved up one last time then sputtered off into silence. A car door opened and thudded shut, then footsteps echoed as Jake leisurely walked down the cemented driveway to the front door.

Attracted by the noise, the two resident dogs Imang and Mickey came to investigate with their usual boundless energy. They gave a short burst of playful barks then got busy sniffing the now silent Nissan Sentra. Nothing out of the ordinary was taking place that night; this was pretty much S.O.P. for these two K9 wannabees. Then Mickey suddenly gave a loud yelp of surprise.

A small furry head with one eye had appeared from the depths of Jake's car and was now floating above the right rear tire. Two tiny paws frantically clawed their way out as the dogs began to jump up and down barking with excitement at the new "toy" they had found. As I rushed out of my room to see what was causing the commotion, I heard a high-pitched petrified voice ring out in the night. "Meooow!"

It was a sick and very scared kitten lost in a strange new place. It jumped off the tire, sat under the trunk and called out to its mommy one more time. I bent down and called back. It lifted itself off the ground and sniffed in my direction. Then its meowing became quicker and more urgent as it took a couple of steps forward. I could now see that it was very young, and its left eye was swollen shut with yellow green gunk smearing down its cheek. But it fearlessly ambled towards me and butted its head in greeting against my outstretched hand.

That was how I found my new baby, BamBam.

In the days that followed, BamBam would go through a couple more experiences that would make it either the luckiest cat alive or God's most favorite cat. But those two stories deserve a blog of their own.

Squeak!

2007-08-05T11:35:00.002+08:00

When the cat is away...

I finally caught the pesky mouse that's been climbing up my tables and hiding in my closets and leaving a trail of God knows what that's been driving me crazy for the past weeks. Well, mice, actually. There are two of them. Two tiny little filthy mice. And I mean filthy in the literal sense.

Now I have to figure out how to get rid of these two. They are cute and furry, after all. Wide-eyed and innocent-looking. If only they didn't chew through my extension wires and leave bacteria-ridden poop and pee all around, I'd probably consider keeping them. But I really have to figure out how to dispose of these mice now. Can't throw them outside, they'll just waltz right back in. Can I drown them? Would that be considered as cruelty to animals? Filthy, disgusting, disease-carrying mice are still animals, aren't they?

It's things like this that make me miss Scraggy even more. I didn't have to worry about rodents and their rights as animals until now. When Scraggy whacked them, it was just part of the food chain. And then there are the creepy spiders that I am afraid of. Scraggy used to take care of those for me, too. But that's a whole different story.

That Monday

2007-06-24T12:01:00.003+08:00

"See you later, Scrag. Have fun!" I said to her that Monday morning on my way out to work. She was outside my window taking a morning nap. I lightly scratched behind her ear as she turned her head up towards me.

I knew what her day was going to be like. Frolicking in the grass, sleeping on the terrace, playing with her Mommy and Poppy, patrolling around the fence, and maybe even catching an insect or two (hopefully not a lizard). I took to work with me the image of her sleeping under my window in the soft morning sun.

I got home from work late that afternoon. Usually, Scraggy runs up to meet me as I enter the gate. That day, she did not. It was already time for her dinner and I knew she'd be hungry, so I called out her name. She didn't come. I walked to the backyard thinking, "She's probably stalking some poor lizard again." But she wasn't there.

From the far end of the backyard, one of Lola's helpers looked at me strangely and started walking towards me. I thought, "That's odd, why is she acting so weird?" I turned to look under the atis trees. The helper was still coming towards me. I asked Mommy, who was rubbing against my leg leaving cat hair all over my jeans, if she had seen Scraggy. The helper was right beside me.

"Are you looking for your cat?" she asked in our dialect. I silently nodded. I couldn't seem to open my mouth.

She started talking about a cat and running and a white car and waiting for me and ants. It was all a hodgepodge of words that I couldn't - or didn't want to - fully comprehend. Then she led me to a mound behind a banana tree in the backyard where the soil looked freshly unearthed.

My mind went blank. And numb.

The helper started digging. She pulled up from the ground my beautiful Scraggy. Her fur was still so shiny. They had waited for me, she said. Lola wanted to wait for me before they buried her. But the ants had started swarming over her and there were the dogs.

Lola came out to join us under the banana tree with another one of her helpers. The cat had gone outside the gate, she said. Scraggy had been on the other side of the street, playing in the weeds. A speeding white car had swept up the road just as she was running down.

They all ran outside to get her, the helpers said. Lola told them to. I didn't hear the rest of what they were saying.

I nodded one more time and motioned for them to put Scraggy back into the ground. She looked like she was sleeping. I watched as they covered her with soil, until all I could see was the mound again. I wished that she would break out of the ground and race me to my room. I wanted to call out her name and wake her up. I walked away and let the tears come instead.