I rushed home after a call from my mother late Wednesday night, worried that someone was trying to break into our home.

My family has lived in Shah Alam for 24 years and for the most part, life has been peaceful. We are very close to our neighbours and friendly with folks in the local shops and market. We moved to Shah Alam when there were no McDonald's and not a single traffic light. The site of the Concorde Hotel was still a plantation and the "Blue Mosque" was under construction.

Today, we are no longer a town but a city. And apparently, Shah Alam has the country's largest concentration of affluent middle-class "Bumiputras". Ideally that should mean sophistication and civility. Then again, the recent anti-temple cow-head protest was inspired and organised by our own folk.

We have never before seen such incivility in Shah Alam. Who are these people, really? How is it they can exist among us? How did they come to exist at all?

These were questions I asked myself as I drove past the Selangor State Secretariat building, after my mother's distressed call. But my thoughts were interrupted as I turned the corner into our neighbourhood and saw a motorcycle parked by the roadside.

A young man was squatting in front of my neighbour's gate. I pulled up right next to him and wound my window down half way. "Awak buat apa tu? (What are you doing?)" I barked at him, trying to conceal my own fear.

The young man took off his helmet and pointed to something in front of him. "Kucing ini kena langgar ...(This cat was hit) " he said in a strong Sabahan accent. I looked at the cat and to my horror, it was Orange Boy Cat, the stray that visits us regularly to eat our cats' food. His face was badly injured and he was breathing very fast. Clearly he was in severe pain.

Someone had hit the cat and left it lying in the middle of the road. The young man was riding home on his motorcycle when he saw the cat lying there. He had rescued the cat from further misfortune by placing him by the roadside. My first instinct was to call my vet friend, Kavita, for advice.

I then left the young man, Daryl, and the cat for a few minutes while I went home to check on the house to make sure everything was okay, and got a small cage for the cat to rest in safely.

There really was nothing Daryl could do at that hour except to sit there to accompany the poor animal. It was so heartening to see such compassion for a helpless creature of God, and just 600 metres away from the State Secretariat Building where the group of callous bigots paraded with a cow's head earlier this Ramadhan.

Daryl volunteered to nurse the cat at his flat where he lived with his brother, Kenny. The next day, the three of us took our whiskered friend to see the vet.

Today, a week after the accident and on Malaysia Day, I am pleased to report that Orange Boy Cat is recovering well at the clinic. His jaw is broken and his leg is a slightly screwed up, but he will be okay. Soon he will be moving in with his new Sabahan family, Daryl and Kenny.

There are still decent people living in Shah Alam after all. Thank you boys for giving us hope.