Name - Rei Nagasaki. Female cat, half-Persian. And for the past 9 years, a family member of mine; never regarded as anything but.
The problem: She went missing about a week ago.
I suspect someone stole my Rei.
The possibility of that being the case isn’t too remote either: I’ve had two other cats of mine stolen before.
(As for the cats: One vanished without trace; the other, however, was fortunate enough to be able to return to my care, mainly because the thief was a neighbour (and an accomplished moron), whose immense foresight made her oblivious to the fact that her cat-napping activities were readily apparent, what with her living only two houses away from mine back then.)
Why I Love(d) Rei
1. Rei was the first feline member of my family. I still remember her as that anxious, confused, irresistibly cute, and eternally curious kitten, which, while tracing my footsteps perfectly, followed me everywhere around the house she would later come to call her own.
2. Of all my cats, Rei was the fiercest: she could and would scare away even the neighbourhood dogs. (And by ‘dogs’, I mean the big scary ones.) None of my other cats inherited her heart of steel.
3. Whenever and wherever I worked, Rei would always be happy to cuddle herself into a furball in some soft, warm spot nearby; whenever Rei spotted me by the front door, she would roll down on her back for a quick petting, then graze her body and tail against my legs; whenever I talked, Rei would be happy enough to (pretend to) listen and not talk back. (Then again, come to think about it, it would have been a rather macabre occasion if she had replied.)
4. Hanging out in front of the TV with Rei — especially if she was cuddled up somewhere near the sofa: great stuff. It felt like having your legs caressed by a cushion of fur.
5. (Please find attached herewith 5 billion other reasons, all of them implied, as to why Rei is and was a lovable cat, which I am unable to enumerate completely due to my being at a loss for words currently.)
Final Thoughts
Now that Rei’s not with me anymore, I regret not having petted or played with her enough.
Still, it is the month of Ramadhan, that time of the year when the virtues of patience are greatly and continously extolled.
Therefore, Mr/Ms. Thief, taking that into consideration, and, being the benevolent human being that I am, my only wish is for you to die a most gruesome death.
Preferably, Mr/Ms. Thief Who Stole My Cat — whomever you might be — I’d have you rammed into by a cement truck, or succumbing to a fatal illness like AIDS, or completely disfigured by a mutant variation of a chronic skin disease, or mauled by your jugular by a Rottweiler, or sawed into tiny cube-ish pieces of meat by a serial killer, or paralyzed completely for the rest of your natural life, or bankrupted beyond the point of financial salvation, and so on and so forth.
Of course, I’d love it best if you could be deprived of your own family member(s), and the closest one(s), and in the worst way possible.
Now, wouldn’t that last one work out just great.