The cat came back

So remember how I mentioned a cat? Having to get rid of a cat? Psycho cat? Maybe I didn't mention getting the cat, so let me back up and start there.

I wanted to get a kitten in Cambodia, since I was going to be staying a year or two and wanted to settle in and feel like a normal resident in a normal city, with something warm and furry to keep me company in my new environment. And I love adopting things impulsively, as we all know, so I thought getting a kitten would be a satisfying endeavor. But when I set out to procure said kitten, it turned out that all the kittens in this town were taken. I guess every wandering expat who breezes through Phnom Penh for a year had about the same idea as I did, and were a little quicker on the draw to boot. So anyway, there were no kittens up for grabs, but there was a cat. A mama cat, who had been found living in the garage of this family's house, had had kittens who all got snatched up by all the more proactive expats, and was left neglected in the garage, waiting for someone to claim her (the family couldn't keep her because of some allergic child or something). I went over and met the cat one drizzly Sunday afternoon and we got along fine, so I put her in a box and hopped on a tuk tuk and brought her home. My roommates had been supportive of the idea, and when I got home, they seemed excited.

And they were, for awhile. But then while I was gone to the haven of Rainbow Lodge, the cat made some rather foul messes that they had to clean up and they decided it wasn't going to work--the cat had to go. Which I was upset about, but it was 2 against 1 and their concerns were valid, so I didn't argue. The trouble was, the lady who gave me the cat wouldn't take her back, and no one I knew wanted a cat, let alone one who made a habit of doing dirty things to people's sinks and pillows. The only alternative was to take the cat to a temple about 12 blocks away, drop her there with all her food, and entrust her to the charity of the monks. Like a Cambodian SPCA, I guess. Not ideal, but workable, and so with a heavy heart I got on my bicycle and rode her, in my bike basket, over to her new home.

With that taken care of, I thought that unfortunate experiment was over. How wrong I was: Last night, ten days after this fateful cat-drop, I woke up in a haze at 2 in the morning to find the cat, the very same cat, sitting on my bed meowing her little head off, totally randomly and for no reason I could possible fathom. I had to be dreaming. But then she tried to bite me on the face and I was pretty sure it was real.

It turns out my roommate was walking home from near the temple, the cat spotted her and ran over in delight, purring and rubbing and demanding to be taken home, and my roommate didn't have the heart to leave her. Seriously, what are the chances?! So this roommate brought her home and dumped her on my bed in the middle of the night so she could yowl at me (I think i understood a few words of Khmer in there) and demand cat food that we didn't have til the wee hours of the morning, and that is what I woke up to at two oclock in great confusion. I was, and remain, bewildered.

So I guess what I'm getting at is, does anyone want a dysfunctional mama cat from Cambodia? Free shipping?