Nomadic Days

I grew up living in the heart of the city -- mom's place downtown was close to the city cathedral, city hall, Quezon Park, and the boulevard. I had many playmates there, big and small. It was also there where I got acquainted with all sizes of vehicles! Wow, some would park at the gate all night, and I'd hide under the engine, watching passersby. Then there would crisscross different sizes of mice! I would outrun some of them -- those smaller than I -- and surprise mom with my catches. She'd give me a pat on the shoulder but would complain about my bringing in mice and roaches in our room.

Anyway, after 8 months, mom and I moved to Batinguel. I hated moving out; I even clawed at mom's skin here and there. Yet, at the end of the day, mom knows best, so we left downtown eventually.

The bachelor pad in Batinguel wasn't as spacious, but it certainly was cleaner. If it weren't for the neighbor's yapping puppy, it would've been a perfect place for us. My favorite part was the living area, where there was TV and a lot of windows. Whenever mom would go out, I'd sit by the window, watching and waiting for her return. At night, the neighborhood is just very peaceful -- perfect for hunting preys. Mom wouldn't let me out though 'coz according to her, my voice is too loud -- I tend to make funny noises whenever I'm thrilled about things -- and our new neighbors would hate us for it. But because I am stubborn and persistent, I wouldn't stop nagging mom until she'd agree. Sadly, I never really had a catch that great while there -- just a couple mollies, an all the more reason I make weirder and weirder noises. *grins*


After two months, mom couldn't stand the yapping puppy anymore. One time she complained to its owner, and the owner, an old, irate woman, fired back. Mom decided that was it -- I pitied her 'coz I saw how she was filled to the brim already. She called Nanay, and at night, Nanay and her team came to the rescue. They came in a huge truck, helped mom pack her things up, and drove off south -- to my mom's hometown. Learning from our past moving experience, mom put me in a green bag, where I wouldn't see which way we're headed. When they opened the bag, I was already in our next "home" -- a strange but somewhat familiar place. I was back in Zamboanguita (check out my previous post about this beautiful town).