2009-07-25 - 12:35 a.m.
Dear Rana Dasgupta
What I Did Last Weekend PART II
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I brought my kittens inside and tried to play with them for a while. This quickly proved to be no fun at all. The kittens were already quite fond of their towel-lined box and only cried when I took them out of it. Only one kitten's eyes were open, though I'm not at all convinced that it could see. It was the kitten that had crawled up behind the wheel well. None of the kittens had any teeth, nor could they walk. Their cute little legs could not yet support any weight at all. They crawled along the floor on their bellies (I assume in search of the box) whenever I took them out and put them on the floor. This struck me as both intolerably cute and also a little pathetic.
I ate dinner and got ready to go to the anniversary party of one of the two bars in town that I patronize with any regularity. There I was offered both drugs and sex, neither of which seemed as interesting to me as finding kittens in my car.
(And now Michael will likely send me an email warning me not to cheat on Shuhei. And though I appreciate your concern Michael, I have to say find it a little condescending. Dressing up to hook up and putting out the hello-boys-vibe are concepts that I am familiar with and may even have done well in the past. But those days are behind me and I dress - tonight in skinny jeans and a black Magic Johnson basketball jersey - to please myself and I keep my vibes to myself too. The strange thing about Japanese men, however, and one that I still don't quite understand, is that the more you clear that you make it that you are not out to hook up the more captivating they will find you. The whole thing is getting pretty boring but, because Shuhei works nights, my options are to go out without him or to stay at home alone every night. And I choose the latter as often as I can handle it.)
I came home and half-expected to be met with a scene from Wild America, that the mom-cat would have gained access to my house and would greet me with fangs and claws bared. Happily, all that I found upon my return was three adorable kittens sleeping quietly in a box. I prepared snacks for a BBQ I was going to the next day, tried (again unsuccessfully) to play with the kittens and went to bed.
At the BBQ, someone discovered the bodies of two kittens further down the beach, bellies bloated and pointed towards the sun.
That night, only one of the kittens would accept any milk. The kitten with its eyes open was least willing to cooperate. It thrashed and mewed with surprising intensity when I picked it up to try to feed it with an eye dropper. It backed away from the saucer fastest when I tried to convince it to drink by itself. The stubbornness of the kitten with its eyes open struck me as wise. Indeed, that kitten should not trust me one bit.
Around one o'clock that night the mom-cat returned. I could hear her meowing outside. The kitten with its eyes open mewed in response. The mom-cat meowed again, this time longer and lower and, in my mind, sadder. The kitten with its eyes open mewed again, this time a little more desperately. This exchange continued for another forty minutes, every second of which made me feel like a slightly more terrible person.
The other two kittens slept the entire time.
The next day I was determined to turn my kittens in. Shuhei showed no intention of waking up to help with this matter and I couldn't figure out whether I should take them to a Hokenjo, a Hokenjou, or the animal center. In the end I decided to just go to the police and ask them what to do.
I brought my boxful of kittens to the police station. They were all sleeping soundly and on their best and most cutest behavior. The police informed me that the laws had changed and that they were no longer allowed to accept stray animals. I was unaware of the existence of laws either way and said that I didn't intend to drop off my kittens, that I only needed to be told where to take them and (as Monday was a national holiday) whether or not that place was open. Having ascertained that I was completely uninterested in forcing my kittens upon them, the police then accepted them and said that they would take them to the animal center for me.
(Interesting, I just noticed that getting help from the police and hooking up operate along very similar principles here. That is, the less interested you are in getting help or attention, the more they will want to give it to you.)
I left the police station feeling smug about the fact that my kittens and I had just made the police break the law and trying feebly to convince myself that my kittens might grow up to be detectives rather than being fated to be put down.
The next day my friend Petar and I were walking passed a rice field in which a crane was standing very near-by and looking regal. Wow, I said. I don't think I've ever been this close to a crane before.
You should catch it, Petar suggested.
I've already killed three kittens this week, I said. I think that's enough.
Petar sure did think that was funny.
