Finding Jolly

cover story

In the fall of 2015, Kitty, the daughter of our lovely resident stray Fringe, made her way into my room, discovered an empty cat house, decided it now belonged to her, and promptly moved in.

On March 27, 2016, Kitty gave birth to two beautiful kids, Lucky and Jolly, who instantly became my trusty little sidekicks.

On October 29, 2019, Jolly disappeared without a trace.

*****

About a cat

Jolly is an energetic, playful cuddle monster and purr machine who also happens to be a fairly staunch misanthrope. She inherited Kitty’s distrust of humans, and, channeling her inner Sven, came to the conclusion that every one of ‘em’s bad, except, of course, me. “Instead of loving lots of humans a little bit each, I’ll love this one weird lady a whole lot,” she decided, and I reciprocated by raising her like a little child and turning her into a complete spoiled brat. As you do.

But I think nature sent her to me, in its infinite wisdom, because Jolly was going to need a bit of extra help to survive. When she was 1, Jolly started having coughing spells, and it soon became obvious that my fur baby had very severe feline asthma. She was coughing around 10 to 15 times a day, as many as 20 on really bad days, and not responding to any treatment. In August last year, she had two near-fatal asthma attacks, after which her vet, Dr. Faheem, put her on a twice-daily inhaler regimen which has helped immensely by healing her lungs and giving her the chance to return to her normal, impish self.

In part because of her illness, my asthmatic kitty has been raised as a strictly indoor cat (who occasionally manages to sneak out despite our best efforts), and, while she has access to the roof where she can soak up the sun and make amusingly futile attempts to terrorize birds, she is rarely allowed to go outside, much to her chagrin.

On October 29th, I made the mistake of giving in to her nagging and letting her out.

*****

Day 1

Jolly left the house at around 11:30am. I saw her at noon, sitting happily on the pillar next to our gate, adamantly refusing to come back inside. A few minutes later, she had simply vanished.

The fact that she rarely stays outside for more than an hour meant that all the red flags were soon very raised. A neighbour’s guard last saw her at 2pm, after which there was simply no sign or sighting of her.

When she wasn’t back by the evening, I did the most logical, practical, pragmatic, productive thing I could possibly do: I burst into tears.

By the time night rolled around, I was full-on Viola Davis-style crying. There was no sign of Jolly anywhere in the immediate vicinity, and I was certain I’d never see her again.

Day 2

By the next morning, Jolly’s disappearance had turned into a complete mystery.

Jolly is scared of pretty much everything - humans, loud noises, big vehicles, her own shadow - and she isn’t accustomed to surviving out on her own. She was definitely in trouble, but what kind, we weren’t sure.

It was a case fit for a Hercule Poirot investigation. But since I couldn’t hire Poirot, seeing how he isn’t real, I thought I’d do the next best thing and search for her myself. Even if something had happened to her, someone somewhere must have seen her at some point.

Just as I was about to start my sleuthing, the lovely Sun entered my life like the beam of light she truly is. A devoted pet parent to an adorable Yorkshire Terrier, she saw a fellow animal lover in anguish and offered to help me look for my fur child. And so I temporarily paused my crying, and we set off, Sun and I, to find my missing four-legged friend, ringing every doorbell, asking everyone if they’d seen Jolly, shoving a photo of her into their unsuspecting faces.

And to my absolute surprise, it turned out that most of the people we came across were … really nice. Shocking, I know! Humans and nice! Who’da thunk!

Some showed concern and said they’d keep an eye out for her; some invited us to search in their yards. There were, however, a few who were just uninterested, and only one lady who seemed to genuinely rue our very existence, but as Sun pointed out, her lack of hospitality was her problem, not ours.

Hours of searching later, while my faith in humanity had been thoroughly restored, my cat’s whereabouts were still a mystery.

My mom and dad were concerned Jolly might have stowed away in someone’s car. My friend Hazel thought Jolly must be locked in a nearby detached or spare room. My Aussie sister Anny was convinced Jolly had been abducted by aliens, which, at this point, seemed like the most plausible explanation for her disappearance.

It would eventually turn out that Hazel’s guess was the closest. Jolly wasn’t locked in a room, but she was, indeed, stuck.

Day 3

Several of my astoundingly kind neighbours were looking for my cat at this point. And true to their word, the wonderful individuals who had shown concern for her the previous day did indeed keep an eye out for her. A number of times people showed up at our house thinking they’d found her, but they had invariably spotted some other kitty (who would most often turn out to be Button, one of my strays).

It was early evening when our neighbour’s driver, the same person who had last seen her nearly two days ago (and who is clearly the MVP of this story), came to our place and said he had found Jolly. I was sure this was going to be yet another Button sighting, but then he said the words “fan” and “stuck” and “definitely your cat”. 

OMG.

OMG. OMG. OMG.

Two doors down, crammed into a small space behind an exhaust fan around two storeys high, I saw a scared, starving, dehydrated feline - my Jolly. The family who lived in a hut in the mostly empty plot next door (and who were well aware that a cat was missing in the area) had known about her whereabouts since the day before and had done nothing to help her.

Now look … *steps on a soapbox* when you see an animal in trouble, here’s what you should do: something. Here’s what you should definitely not do: nothing. If Spider-Man has taught us one thing (and he clearly hasn’t, as you can see), it’s that with great power comes great responsibility. You know those opposable thumbs that we’ve been blessed with? They come with the responsibility to help those who haven’t had our evolutionary luck. If we see a creature in distress, we’re meant to help, not stand by and watch it slowly die like some kind of psychopaths. *steps off the soapbox*

So, anyway, my silly imp had managed to get herself stuck while exploring the neighbourhood. She couldn’t jump down; she doesn’t do heights. She couldn’t go back up; again that was a whole storey high. She had spent two days cooped up in a small hole with no food, water, or asthma medication, and had endured the sun during the day and the cold during the night. It’s a miracle she was still alive.

My amazing neighbours - mostly people I had never even met before - quickly sprung to action and brought ladders and poles and came up with rescue schemes that were never going to work and were immediately vetoed by yours truly. Our best bet was to convince the resident of the house to remove the exhaust fan, which, after some prodding, he did. 

But when she noticed that someone was tinkering with the fan and saw the number of people who had gathered outside, my little girl completely freaked out. Turns out, there is one thing she’s more scared of than death: humans. 

She jumped. (Gasp!)

Thankfully she landed safely (whew!), then ran straight for home, beelining for her water bowl as soon as she got in, after which she pretty much collapsed on the bed. With the ordeal her body had been through, it would take her weeks to be able to eat properly, and a whole month to fully recover.

*****

And that is how a group of totally random people came together to help me find my missing cat and reaffirm my faith in humanity along the way. I did not think anyone would care about my lost pet, and I could never have imagined so many strangers would be willing to offer a helping hand. 

Where I expected indifference, I found kindness. When I thought there was no hope, I found support. 

People still ask how Jolly is doing. Just the other day, a neighbour inquired if I found my cat and then wanted to know all the details of her rescue. Maria and Sahil, the kids who very enthusiastically helped look for her, now wave to me whenever they see me. Sun even brought lots of presents for Jolly and is glad that my furry friend and I have been reunited.

As for Jolly herself, she is obviously grounded for life now, although I’m not sure she knows that, seeing how she keeps sneaking out of the house all the time anyway. Could someone please convince her that she’s meant to be an indoor cat? Because I really don’t need another practical demonstration of the goodness of humanity!

- Sameen Amer

Us Magazine, The News International - 13th December, 2019