We didn't expect the day of

welfare work for the animals to encounter, finally, Mr L's friendly female cat, Lili, and her kittens. Encroaching into the space of his business, we'd tried repeatedly to talk sense into him to get her sterilised, but the old man said he wanted to breed Lili as his farm products were damaged or consumed by rats.

Even though we told him that we could 'pass' other (sterilised) cats to him to guard his business from the pests and that Lili should be given to us to be sterilised. Our main objective was to spay Lili to prevent unwanted births and the 'trouble' of having to manage a fresh new litter of kittens.

Last Saturday, we visited Mr L again and chanced upon Lili's four little ones that were scurrying on the grounds of the farm. About 3-4 weeks old already and getting adjusted to every nook and corner of Mr L's dilapidated farm setting: discarded boxes, unswept floor, decaying wooden shelves, old styrofoam boxes -- I don't really know how to describe his farm!

A beautiful tabby, Lili lied serenely on the floor in the late morning sun, grooming her paws. Her slender body; miniature bone structure. She responded affectionately to us and wasn't at all, fearful of the strange scents from our hands.

Until we made the decision to take her for sterilisation, for we didn't know when we would ever go by the farm and risk having Lili impregnated again.

Until we placed her in a styrofoam box and realised that she can be a fiesty female fighter of the feline species. Refusing vehemently to be enclosed in any crate by head-butting her way out against the styrofoam lid.

We tried bringing her into the car, without any carrier or crate, by just grabbing the scruff of her neck and holding her limbs, but the poor mother was writhing and contorting out of our clutches; we had no choice but to release her, suffer the consequence of a failed attempt, i.e., an even warier Lili. The last item on our sterilisation list of priorities: an uncooperative, unwilling animal.

So S, in her quick-wittedness, suggested borrowing a carrier from the nearest vet clinic after a fair bit of negotiation with the clinic staff and explaining the nature of our work -- animal welfare. A few of us stayed behind the farm to regain Lili's trust with some wetfood.

Armed with the carrier, I approached Lili who was crouched, surprisingly calm, in the dark of the room -- while her kittens munched on the wetfood outside. At the smell of the bait, she came closer to me and in spite of the unpleasant encounter just now, even allowed me to stroke her. She purred at the caresses. Then, I placed the food closer to the carrier and tried to nudge her into the carrier.

When she resisted to go into the carrier, I decided that a dose of coercion was necessary and in my lone battle with Lili, I worked at putting her into the carrier while she obstructed her entry by sticking her feet out against the carrier's opened gate. A little tussle, and as soon as she was in, I slammed and secured the carrier shut. Lili fumbled and knocked about the inside of the carrier and I applied pressure to demonstrate to her the sturdiness and solidness of the carrier against which her struggles would be futile.

And then we swiftly whisked her into the car, then to the clinic, taking care to hold the carrier securely when we moved from vehicle to clinic. The last thing I dread on a mission like this is a flimsy carrier imploded open and a fear stricken Lili running about with the traffic on the main road.

So, on the sterilisation front, it's one check for Lili and four more checks for her kittens. Marked them down mentally.

Do email us at projectjkteam@yahoo.com.sg if you'd like to contribute to our work in stemming the root of a core area of the animal welfare through active sterilisation.


One of Lili's offsprings. Another goodlooking tabby.


Lili enjoying the warmth of the morning when I approached her.