Murderer at 22

Hello. My name is Treasa and I’m a pet killer.

As I sit here writing this, I’m also mourning the loss of my pet kitten, Ace, while staring at the once stinky cage of Muffin, my pet hamster. I think I’m getting a reputation of some sort, but just to clear things up with you, I LOVE animals, I’m so bizarrely obsessed that I sometimes even get attached to ants and leave little pieces of chocolate out for them. I still mourn the loss of Steve and his ant family.

I might not literally be an axe murderer but I definitely cannot seem to stick to one pet, the longest I’ve had one is three months. I’m grateful that I have people to blame this on and that I can give slimy excuses to justify myself or else I would just be a cruel psycho killer.

1. Growing up with a family of animal haters is hard. (Okay, now I’m being mean, they don’t hate animals, they just think that fur-shedding, un-toilet-trained, not walking on two legs sorta creatures belong in the wild and any licking petting or cuddling associated with them is just yuck!) Can’t blame them, my people don’t dig pets… or animals for that matter, unless it’s on fur coats or as buckets of finger licking good chicken.

2. We move A LOT! Seven schools in like my entire life (No I wasn’t kicked out, but, maybe I sometimes wished I was coz it sounds kinda badass right? And also no my dad wasn’t in the military) Anyways, there was a lot of moving from one state of India to another, from one cramped apartment to another. I met countless pandis, malayalis, biharis and the most adorable street dogs, cats, goats, cows, rats even, but, mom and dad refused to budge from their no-pets-allowed-in-this-house wala stand. We just didn’t have the means,the space and mostly the patience to be poop-scooping pet-walking humans.

3. Every living thing I have ever been given the responsibility of, eventually disappears, has to be let go or dies a tragic and weird death. Yea… hurt my reputation as a babysitter in my neighbourhood.

Do these sound like excuses to you? You guys must be like, “if she really wanted one she could have kept one.” It wasn’t for lack of trying okay,as it will soon be made clear from my horrible track record.


The very first cat in my life, Horlicks (yea,it’s a pretty weird name, but I have this huge-ass tendency to name things after some kind of processed food! And no, it’s not because I plan to eat them -_-)

Horlicks, my loveliest of lovelies, my firstest of firsts!! We treated her like a queen, cat kibble, soft pillows, rubber mice and all the works…

Horlicks was the one I thought would be around for the four years of college. She was a beauty! She’d come up to you to be given that extra piece of whatever it is that you’re eating and she’d purr in that melt your heart way  when tickled beneath her chin. (Alright fine, all cats do that but I’d never had one so all of this was new and fascinating) The problem with her was that my hostel warden hated her as she’d sneak in to everyone’s rooms and freak them out and pets were a strict no-no.But we still somehow managed to keep her.The other problem with her was that she was Ms. Slutty Cat, always sleeping around with some cat, the rowdy macho kind and getting herself pregnant.Soon she was known as ‘Horlicks,the hostel whore’. (No offence to any cats or cat lovers please) She stuck around for a long time, we spent many idyllic evenings in the garden and she was a regular participant of our gang get-togethers, but one day when we were finally ready for her to move into our room she disappeared… never to be seen again. Maybe she found a home which took her in, maybe she went the way of abstinence and joined a cat nunnery, maybe…it’s just a lot of maybes hopefully none with a sad ending.

Then came Rafael, my pet  baby bat, yea you heard me right, I said bat.


Rafael in his temporary home in a box under my desk in class, he was sleeping-ish, him and me aren’t morning persons…

Finding him was just a coinkydinky, my friend thought that he was an unusually shaped piece of poop on the floor and my ever inquisitive mind wanted to check it out (I’m disgusting and yes hence I’m forever single), that’s when we realised that it was a baby bat, a tiny thing, he fit right into the palm of my hand.We christened him Rafael [actually that was me who christened him] What are you doing here? Get out of my head! [Faaainnee -_-] WE christened him Rafael coz God picked us to help nurse him back to health, or maybe it just sounded cool then. Forced to rush off to class after lunch, we kept him with us in a small box, showing him off and creeping the shit out of people, It’s not every day where a bunch of crazies walk around with a baby bat in a box you know. And we were completely clueless parents; with no idea about how to look after the precious little thing, so we did what any normal parent would do… we turned to the all-knowing Google for help, to ask dumb questions like how bats pee and what to feed them.

His adorableness sort of floored us and we resolved to keep him,in the hopes that he’d eventually be so tame so as to fly back to us and perch on our shoulders and other bizarre fantasies.But come evening and our righteous friends reminded us about “natural habitats”, “stupid caretakers”, “being the reason for his death” and other morbid facts, and forced us to return him to the wild. I reluctantly did it, after a lot of grumbling(see that halo around my head? It’s for good deeds like these… [LOL! What halo? xP]-_- yea whatever) I like to think that somewhere there is a bat who is grateful to me for saving him from being squished and will return to me in my time of need.


Muffin, my biggest commitment to date! My very own goofy hamster!!

That cute furball could do what normal humans only dreamt of; sleep all day, every day. He was a gift for my 21st birthday! Yea,I got a hamster and DID NOT get drunk up to my eyeballs and go to a rave only to find myself in bed with a stranger the next day (preferably belonging to the opposite sex and with a hot body). Okay now I’m rambling but TRUST me, I loved Muffin, he was the best thing that happened to me and he’d be highly favoured over any hunk.He had this cute little cage with an exercise ball he could run in.It took some time for my mom to get used to him (being animal haters and all) but she had to coz she’d be the one looking after him once I went off to college. She did though and eventually maybe a little more than she should have. She started sneaking him little treats,treats she even forbade me to have,she’d sit there and watch him run around in the little ball all day and talk to him in that weird baby language no one really understands.My dad on the other hand wasn’t such an easy target, Muffin once grabbed a piece of carrot and did that cute thing where he was holding it in his eensy weensy paws and just sat there looking at him with those beady eyes, I mean, how cute is that??But,my dad was undeterred and still thought that he’d bring back the plague and we’d be thrown out of the country… shamed. Okay I’m over exaggerating but it’s true that he doesn’t fall for cute,or he’d have bought me that leather jacket I’ve been pining for…

(Don’t I look adorable?? Wouldn’t I look more adorable in that jacket? Like adorably hawttt?) [*throws up in mouth*]

Anywaaaays, Muffin was a keeper.He grew plumper and plumper and furrier and my mom started liking him more than me,sigh…He started have this huge fetish for wires and carrots and peeing in his ball and then sleeping in his pee,but as a new parent I found all of that creepily cute.

But then, one stormy night, an open balcony door, a flimsy cage and after two hours of frantic searching, muffin was found lying on the cold ground in the pouring rain never to come back to the world of carrot treats and Hamster Olympics.I was heartbroken… it was hard telling everyone about it. I still don’t like talking about the whole incident but it happened and now everyone thinks it was his way of getting away from this shitty world…-_-


My very own kitten!

Ace, looking accusedly at me for not sharing my yum fish roll!!

We found him, me and my friend jams, one of the four brothers, Speedy, Stupid, Clueless and Ace. All of them were hyperactive, not at all shy and hard to keep up with,their mom was like super friendly and let us play around with her kids (moms usually don’t let us around their young, we be kind of reckless and scary). We sat there watching the sun set and boats sail by while Ace was napping on Jam’s lap. He was so meek and kept letting out tiny mews and purrs and before we knew it we were traipsing down the road,Ace in hand,with the hopes of giving him a better life, a little weighed down by the guilt of taking him away from his mom but in high spirits nevertheless because he didn’t seem to miss home too much. We kept marching with Ace snuggled up in the crook of Jam’s elbow,eyes droopy and nose all wet. The rest of the evening was spent thinking of ways to make Ashik take him up as his own as we couldn’t possibly sneak him in but as it turned out all that thinking was a waste. His soft girly heart fell for Ace’s cuteness and he claimed him as his forevermore. [I DO NOT have a soft girly heart… -_- I didn’t want Ace to be left alone and unloved] Yea… suuurree…

But then rose the questions of “cruel homewreckers”, “untrainable stray cats”, “unhappy brother kittens” and so on and so forth, and Blob and Glob had to give up on Ace. According to me Ace didn’t seem so keen on going back…look at him! Doesn’t he look content?

We were on our way back to his mommy, with him all cuddled up on my lap

(But no one listens to me-_-) So return him we did, and we sat there for a while as he scuttled off to where his brothers were, nestling up close to them, and nodding off to dream happy kitty dreams.

I’ve come to realise that it’s not simple to keep a pet, that you can’t just pick up some cute ball of fur and take him home and make him your best friend for life.[Coz that spot’s occupied B-)] Pfft… *rolling eyes*

It’s a HUGE responsibility,firstly I’d need an apartment(the ones with bay windows and little balconies with a garden and a view and a mini library) or maybe just a room that I stay in at a place where pets are allowed,secondly I’d need a loyal pet sitter who would take care of him when I’d go away,thirdly,oh wait this was my first point,I’d need to be more careful and treat him like my life depended on it. Eventually when all of that works out, maybe I can write blog posts like “Different fart sound dogs make” or “How not to let a dog have diarrhoea”,but mostly because of my awesomeness,I’ll  have ones like “How I rescued a pup and then he ran away from home”, or “How to give your goldfish a funeral he/she deserves”. [How do you know whether a goldfish is a he or a she anyway? o.O]

Maybe I should get a plant instead. One that’s drought resistant. [Like a cactus? o.O] No, like the kind that doesn’t even need soil… a plastic one perhaps?


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