Our only kitten Patches has died. He did not come back for dinner last night. He did not come back for breakfast and lunch today. When Wuan got back from work just now, she found him lifeless outside two houses away from ours. We do not know what happened to him.

Patches, or as we would prefer to call him Patchy, was eight months old. He would follow Wuan in and out of the house, mewing after her for attention. When he was not following Wuan, he would crawl into the cargo net under my wheelchair to rest. We are going to miss him. Farewell my dear friend and thank you for all the wonderful memories.

Cats are such carefree creatures. They have nary a worry where their next meal will come from. This is true of Fei Por and Patches. Both of them live for the moment. They seem so contented. Their daily routine consists of eating, a little roaming and a lot of sleeping. I envy their easy-going nature. Sometimes I wish I am a cat.

Frosty has been missing since two Thursdays ago. He turned five months old on April 1. Wuan looked for him around the neighbourhood but could not find him. He has fine white fur with black and brown ears and a black bushy tail. He does not like to be carried but likes to be petted. He just did not come for his breakfast that morning and we have not seen him since. I read that cats sometimes wander away in search of new territories and may go missing for months and suddenly return like nothing has happened. We are hoping that will be so. Now we have two cats left - Fei Por the mummy cat and Patches who is from the same litter as Milo and Frosty.

I do not know which is more heart-rending - losing Milo so unexpectedly or Frosty coming into the house searching room to room and listening to him mewing in futility for his sister.

Wuan found Milo lying by the road outside the house this morning. She was bleeding from the mouth and lifeless. Milo was the only female in the litter, and also the naughtiest. Despite knowing that she was not allowed into the house, she would sneak in at every available opportunity and hid under the sofa. It was only last night that I held her for the first time on my lap and patted her. I could hear her purring away. The one thing that she liked to do was to jump onto my wheelchair’s under-seat cargo net and hitch a ride into the house. Smart ball of fur that one. We shall miss her dearly. Rest in peace dear Milo.