Some people hear voices in their heads. Apparently I hear cats. I had yet to see many stray cats or dogs roaming around Kuala Lumpur or Penang which I found unusual. I also missed the sight of them. 

While eating street food on our last night in George Town, I heard a kitten’s call coming from the dark end of the alley. I looked in that direction and saw only an old man picking up plastic chairs for the evening, so went back to the ais kacang I was sharing with a table of people. Then there it was again, that pitiful, lost kitten sound. I looked again, scanning all the dark nooks and crannies for any sight of something small and fuzzy. Nothing. No one else at the table seemed to notice, but the old man gave me a questioning look when he saw me looking his way. I pointed to my ear to indicate I had heard something, then went back to the ais kacang again. This continued until I eventually caught on that the old man was making the noise. He had a good laugh when I finally figured it out, and I smiled at how convincing he had been. 

The next morning I was still hearing the sound, slowly pulling me out of a deep sleep. Great, I had wanted so badly to find that kitten that now I was dreaming about it. I’d doze off again, only to hear it somewhere off in the distance. It was still dark. The sound couldn’t be real. I was asleep and dreaming. It grew louder until I was awake, laying in bed, and certain that it was too loud to be anywhere but inside the building. Odd. There was a dog out back that sometimes barked in the evenings, but the hostel did not have a cat. 

I finally tip toed out of bed and slowly opened the door so as not to wake anyone else. There in the back room, two girls were sleepily brushing their teeth and staring dubiously at a full-grown, orange kitten. He was just yelling up a storm for no reason. I looked at the two girls and asked if one of them had brought a cat home last night? I lived in Thailand. I know it’s tempting to claim strays as a temporary pets after a few drinks. They just stared at me sleepily. So I scooped up the loudmouth and carried him downstairs to show him the front door. He had probably found a way in and gotten lost while exploring. 

I set him in the doorway and he bounded back inside with a quick u-turn. “No, no, no, you don’t live here, dude. It’s time to go home.” 

I tried giving him a little push this time. He seemed to think that meant playtime, and bounded back inside with another u-turn, this time jumping up onto the front desk where he proceeded to start knocking the wooden blocks spelling out “welcome,” onto the tile floor, one loud, echoing clunk at a time.

Why didn’t I just shut the front door on him, you ask? Well, I discovered that there was no front door, just a gate with a padlock, which he was more than able to fit between the rungs of. 

“Dude, you’re not making any friends.” I couldn’t help but give his head a rub in amusement, which he liked and decided to glue himself to my ankles in thanks. 

I had to go back upstairs to get dressed for my ferry departure. The dormitory door I could shut on him. At least now he wasn’t yelling as much. 

I went back downstairs with my backpack and he was still there, happily making himself at home. The few other sleepy souls who were awake for early departures were just staring at him uncertainly. 

Leaving the dorm to head to the ferry, I carried him with me until he had had his fun and jumped out of my arm, probably to run right back to the hostel again. Sorry, everyone who was trying to sleep. I tried. 

The photos I used for this post are some more of George Town’s marvelous street art, this time from a project called ‘101 Lost Kittens.’ The project was part of the 2013 George Town Festival, which once again commissioned the artist Ernest Zacharevic to create art pieces that would bring awareness to the many stray animals running around Penang, particularly kittens. The locations for these art pieces were not originally made public, and instead, festival-goers were encouraged to search the city for them. They were some of my favorites out of all the artwork, and ending my stay in George Town with one of the “lost” kittens seemed only appropriate.