11 November 2026
It’s Wednesday, and I’m back at work after being away for almost a week.
Physically, I’m sitting in front of my laptop. Mentally? I think I’m still somewhere at the Singapore Cat Festival.
I suppose that’s what happens when the past two weeks have been filled with so many unexpected experiences, emotions, and little moments of happiness.
And strangely enough, most of them involved my cats.
When life gets unexpectedly busy
A few weeks ago, Jack made his debut at a cat show. At approximately 13 years old, he participated in the Household Pet category and somehow walked away as the highest-scoring cat of the day.
I was ecstatic.
Of course, I was proud of his achievement. But more importantly, I was proud of him for managing the entire experience.
Jack has never been an outgoing cat.
For the first seven or eight years of his life with me, going outside usually meant visiting the vet. He was perfectly content staying home, enjoying his routine, and occasionally disciplining his younger siblings.
And then, somewhere along the way, his meowther started developing a wishlist.
A photo shoot with members of the CATS musical cast? Apparently, that’s on the list too.
Within a relatively short period, this senior cat has experienced more outings than he ever expected.
I sometimes wonder what goes through his mind.
Perhaps he’s thinking, “What on earth is this woman doing to me?”
And honestly, I wouldn’t blame him.
The things we do for our own happiness
I’ve been thinking about something lately.
A lot of these activities are things I wanted to experience. Jack never asked to participate in a cat show, meet performers, or spend two days surrounded by unfamiliar cats and people.
These were largely my wishes.
And he’s been incredibly patient with me.
That doesn’t mean every moment has been easy for him. He’s had his anxious moments, and I’ve been learning to recognise when he’s uncomfortable.
One thing I hope to achieve eventually is helping him feel more confident outside without relying on gabapentin for every outing.
Not because I need him to become an adventurous cat, but because I want him to understand that going outside doesn’t always mean something unpleasant.
Jack was abandoned before he became part of my family.
I don’t know how much of his past he remembers, or whether his anxiety has anything to do with those experiences. But sometimes I wonder whether he worries about being left behind again.
I’ve jokingly threatened to dump him when he’s naughty. Of course, I would never have the heart to do such a thing.
He’s my cat. He’s family.
If there’s one thing I wish I could tell him and have him understand, it’s that no matter where we go, we’re always coming home together.
Perhaps that’s something I need to demonstrate through our experiences, rather than words.
The kindness I didn’t expect
The second cat show took place over two days, and this time Conan came along too, although he wasn’t competing.
Managing two cats at an event was quite an undertaking.
But something happened over those two days that touched me more than I expected.
People helped.
Friends looked after Conan while I was busy with Jack. Someone helped bring Jack out to relieve himself. When an unfortunate toilet accident happened, people stepped in to help clean up. Others helped with our belongings and the little logistical challenges throughout the weekend.
Nobody made me feel as though I was troubling them.
What touched me most was how naturally everyone treated Jack and Conan as though they were their own cats.
They weren’t simply doing me a favour. They genuinely cared about their comfort and wellbeing.
And somehow, I felt that the two boys responded to the kindness too.
Conan, who sometimes enjoys creating chaos at home, was surprisingly well-behaved. Jack, despite the unfamiliar environment, was patient with the people handling him.
I don’t know whether they understood that these people were helping us.
But watching those interactions made me feel incredibly grateful.
I’m so accustomed to being responsible for everything concerning my cats that having others willingly share that responsibility felt different.
For once, I didn’t have to manage absolutely everything myself.
I had people around me who cared.
Perhaps the ribbons weren’t the biggest reward
Jack came home with three ribbons from his second show.
Naturally, I was delighted.
And yes, there’s a competitive side of me that wants him to continue earning points towards his next title.
But when I think about the weekend now, the ribbons aren’t necessarily the first things that come to mind.
I remember the people who helped.
The conversations with friends.
The small gestures of kindness.
The way Conan calmly spent time with people who weren’t his family.
The way Jack managed another unfamiliar experience.
And the feeling of being surrounded by people who shared my affection for these animals.
I also find myself thinking about how one experience has led to another.
What started as an opportunity for Jack to participate in a cat show eventually introduced me to more people, new activities, and experiences I hadn’t anticipated.
Sometimes, the best part of trying something new isn’t the outcome we initially hoped for.
It’s everything else that happens along the way.
Meanwhile, back in the real world
There’s another part of my life that hasn’t been quite as enjoyable lately.
My veterinary course has been testing my patience.
I’ve found myself increasingly frustrated with the teaching approach, particularly sessions where much of the time is spent listening to slides being read aloud or watching videos together.
I still find the subject interesting. Pain management and anaesthesia are important topics, and I genuinely want to learn.
But I’ve been questioning whether the experience is worth the time and effort I’m putting into it.
Interestingly, I noticed something about myself recently.
I was running late for class, yet I felt surprisingly calm.
I’d spent the day doing laundry, showering Conan, mopping the floor, and taking care of things at home.
Normally, being late would bother me.
This time, I wasn’t particularly concerned.
Perhaps I’ve become less emotionally invested in the course.
Or perhaps I’ve had so many other things making me happy lately that the frustration doesn’t occupy as much space in my mind anymore.
I’m not sure which explanation is more accurate.
Possibly both.
The strange feeling of returning to work
And now I’m back at work.
I have emails to catch up on, projects to follow through, and responsibilities waiting for me.
Yet my brain is still replaying the past week.
I suppose there’s an interesting contrast between my professional life and everything I’ve been doing outside work.
At work, I’ve been reflecting on my responsibilities, the ownership I want, and what professional growth should look like for me.
Outside work, I’ve been making decisions, organising activities, solving unexpected problems, meeting people, and seeing the results of my efforts.
Some of those activities were exhausting. Preparing for a cat show, transporting two cats, and managing everything around them certainly wasn’t a relaxing holiday.
Yet I came away feeling fulfilled.
Perhaps that’s why switching back to work mode feels unusually difficult.
It’s not that I’ve stopped caring about my career.
I still have ambitions and things I want to accomplish professionally.
But these past two weeks have reminded me that there’s a whole part of my life outside work that brings me happiness and satisfaction.
And perhaps I’ve been enjoying that part of my life more than I realised.
Letting the happiness linger
I don’t think there’s a grand lesson to take away from the past two weeks.
Jack doesn’t need to win every show.
Conan doesn’t need to become the perfect outgoing cat.
And I don’t need to fill every weekend with activities.
In fact, I think all of us deserve a little rest after everything we’ve been doing.
What I do want is to remember how these experiences made me feel.
Proud of Jack.
Amused by Conan.
Grateful for the people who helped us.
Happy to have experienced something different.
And perhaps a little surprised by how much joy these seemingly small events have brought into my life.
It’s been almost two months since my last blog post on 13 September.
A lot has happened since then, but these past two weeks have been particularly memorable.
For now, I’ll slowly return to my usual routine.
My emails aren’t going to answer themselves, unfortunately.
But if my mind occasionally wanders back to the cat show, the people, and those happy little moments, I think I’ll allow myself that.
After all, a little happiness hangover isn’t such a bad thing to have.
