We just came back from supper at Backofen, a halal German bistro cum bakery at Desa Sri Hartamas. Our first time there, given the tip off by others who had been there. So after running the errands for the orphanage project and then maghrib at Senah’s place, the husband really had in his mind that we were going to Backofen since it was just around the corner.
And so we had the lovely baked cheesecake German style and the lime pie, both of which were given two thumbs up by the husband, which means they were good. I found them to be really good in fact. A hot chocolate and a cappuccino later, we drove home, not anticipating anything other than that I can go back to season 5 of Grey’s Anatomy dvds.
Once we reached the gate, I got out to unlock it and that was when I heard the ever familiar voice screaming meowing for attention. That was not Milo, but can it be…nah. Cannot be. Probably one of Milo’s friends. And so I thought. So I ignored it and then it got more intense, louder and more distinctively familiar. By then I was frantically searching high and low around the compound because I was dead sure I KNOW that voice. How can I ever forget it???
I followed it towards the house across the street and realized that it came from under our neighbour’s car. I bent down and I thought I’ve just seen a ghost. There she was, Tito, who had been missing for more 3 whole weeks!!!
We have already put it in our head that she had died and not coming back (more for us to really get on and let go, in other words-redha) and there she was, underneath the neighbour’s car, screaming frantically, thin, frail but yet still very clean (she’s very meticulous with cleanliness, hence it was the biggest irony that the fleas got onto her first instead of her scraggly brother Milo).
Strangely enough, I felt extreme mixtures of happiness and anger. I had wanted to spank her there and then but also hug and kiss her at the same time. I’m actually angry for what she put us through the last 3 weeks–my sleepless nights, us combing the neighborhood looking for her, going from street to street and finally convincing ourselves that she is finally gone- something which was not easy to do, given our relationship with her. And here she is, back and strutting around the house now like a diva as I am typing this down.
Perhaps, had it not been for the lovely supper earlier at Backofen, I would have really spanked her. But it’s amazing what sugar rush from lovely desserts can do to one’s level of compassion. So Tito, have a good rest, I will spank you tomorrow. You deserve it and you of all other beings should know, I don’t give faces to nonsense and I am fierce like that.
( Ohhh come here my cutie cutie Tito. I miss you shooo much!)