Saved.. hopefully

Here is something I am not particularly proud of.

On my way home today, I saw a group of Malay girls bringing, from the road to the roadside, an injured cat (let me call it Brindle for namesake). I was concerned, but not enough to go near to them and Brindle. My eyes locked in that direction as I carried on my way to the lift, with the painful cries ringing though my ears.

As I have my dinner, my heart grew heavier, for I became so worried about Brindle. My concern for Brindle became strong enough a driving force as I forgo my insignificant shower and went down to take a look after registering SPCA's telephone number on my phone. Brindle laid there beside an open pack of Whiskas food pouch, the food untouched. I called the SPCA who has already received the same report, albeit having gotten the wrong block number from the previous caller. I filled in more details for the SPCA officer and crossed my fingers.

At 7:35pm, I instinctively took a look downstairs from my flat, and there was the SPCA truck flashing the amber hazard lights. I heard the familiar meowing cries, evidence that Brindle is still alive. My mind finally returned to normal.