Thursday, October 20, 2016

Tita y Titachiquita's


September 26-


Tita had kittens three evenings ago... during the day, while I made dinner. I tried to be considerate and focus on dicing my onion, but couldn’t help but being fascinated and peeking over. Bets had floated around the community about how many Titachiquitas were growing in her bloated stomach, and news of the babies spread quickly, with the kids coming over the following day to see if they had been right. The five kittens make a constant chorus of premature meows that sound like seagulls in the distance. I am surely more preoccupied about their well being then Tita, who seems relatively ambivalent towards her blind pups.




October 1-

I left for four days for a one year celebration with the 30 other volunteers. I left the kittens in the neighbor's house, a 90+ year old lady, who has no children to mess with the kittens. My host family assured me that Tita would feed them. The other volunteers and I went to an all inclusive resort and ate plate after plate of delicious food, and threw our scraps in the mouths of garbage cans instead of starving dogs. I returned exhausted, stomach aching, feeling unsettled about having left, but excited to see the kittens. I made it to Pita and poked my head into my host family's house, and similar to the time my dog died the first thing I was told was that Tita had died. She had been tied up by a string and the string had tightened around her neck, killing her and subsequently all her kittens were eaten by a dog. Whenever I came home, she would accompany me to my house, walking behind me, pretending not to care. The death of animals is not unusual here, but as I have joked many times, she was my bosi, my gal, my only companera who I lived with, and I felt her absence immediately. My house was quiet, no seagulls in the distance, or gentle meow as Tita rubbed up against my ankles.



October 22 -

Wilson, the newest addition to la casa de Tikan, was recently carried up from Kuirima in the rain. He is a muchacho, but still likes to rock a fresh purple nagua.



2 comments:

  1. Lovely Sean. So poignant in its understatement, the routines that you no longer have. Glad to hear you have a new friend. It's OK to grieve the losses too. Aye... my heart. Love to you my dear son.

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  2. You dressed your CAT in a nagua!!! (Now just WHO might have seeded that idea for you in the early years of your life?)

    You write so well. Brings the reader right into la casa de Tikan sitting on your bed watching all that transpires there.

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