Yesterday was Christmas and I was away celebrating. Well, more like eating the best multi layered chapos with nyama na waru (meat and potatoes) and of course, the typical Kenyan thufu. I was at a close friend’s house, where I went after church and snailed around till the chapattis were ready. To directly translate for maximum effect, we fell on the food to our fill. There was also two one-liter stoney’s a mutual friend had bought earlier. This is one of those times you just look back and salivate for the next year or so. It’s also one of those times you think Christ might judge you harshly upon, given it’s His birthday, not ours.
The day was great, and it all played into my plan.
Creating an alibi of where I was when the cat ‘committed’ suicide. I had planned every detail, doted every i and crossed every t. The cat would’ve supposedly stuck its head in a tight water jar, run out of breath and eventually died. Then I, the remorseful, pet loving, cat caring neighbor would call the owner and tell her how the cat died, she would be in her creamish silk night gown, holding a glass of water with the lights turned off but the moon dimly lighting the room. Upon hearing the news, she would immediately have a breakdown, dropping the glass and wetting the whole red cemented shags floor. I would try to console her but her sobs would hear none of my charming voices. Her mother would run into the room full with worry for her daughter, upon her explaining her cat died, the mother would take a brave face and tell her how these things happen and back it up with how their dog went missing five years ago.
She would eventually go to bed and I’d burry the feline.
She would come back in a few days, enquire a bit about what happened, ask to see where I buried it, then start sobbing all over again. I’d give a warm hug and tell her “all things happen for a reason.”
I would then, after a few weeks, write an article titled ‘Look where curiosity landed you.’ I wouldn’t self -incriminate myself in this article, but even if I did, she doesn’t read my articles.
Change of heart?
After the Christmas meal, I packed a few pieces of meat for the feline in case I had a change of mind on my way home.
I got home to find my house in order, though the cat was too hungry. This was evident by the faint meows it let out. I decided to give her the meat as I orchestrated my plan.
I was too full to think, leave lobe orchestrate a flawless James Bond level operation.
I turned on my laptop to watch a movie and unwind. Soon as I sat, it jumped onto my laps and watched the movie with me. I think I get why people keep cats now. I just might get one of my own.
We slept together.
The cat had grown very fond of me for the meal. It did not know the war between life and death –metaphorically literal- that was being waged in my head.
I slipped in to bed and it leaped behind me, I thought of pushing it off but, naah…
Made for love?
When I woke up today morning, I found it staring into my face with its head bent sideways, could it be seeing my thoughts? It mattered less. I had resolved to keep the cute cat until the owner picks it.
I went out to get breakfast and it escorted me to the door. Who needs a girlfriend when you have a cat?
I bought some milk, a couple of eggs and bread.
When I came back, I found it sitting patiently on the kitchen counter. Add a toque and some mittens and the tittle ‘chef squishy paws’ fits perfectly.
I boiled the milk. Who gives a cute animal cold refrigerated milk?
Took my share and put its share away to cool. I then fried the eggs and split our portions.
I gave it one of my plates for solid foods and the other for liquids. Can you believe the owner has just one cat plate!
Before I started eating, I jumped to Google and guess what, it’s a girl! I named her Stacy but she still responds to ‘puss’. At least she can tell the other cats the cool guy in apartment four calls her Stacy.
Stacy’s a glutton
After checking out her gender, I looked at what she was doing, to my surprise, she had downed everything! Her plates were empty. I did what any reasonable temporary cat owner would do, share.
The day went on well; Stacy and I have been playing games the whole day. We’ve played the sock ball, chase the beam, catch the dangling earphones, you get the picture
What pathetic looser binge watches How to get away with murder? Get a life, punk!
We’re eating fried meat and ugali, though only I am eating ugali.
Aren’t cats just adorable creatures?
How come no one told me this earlier?
How isn’t cat’s adorability a course in the university?
I might be speaking too soon but I think I found my soul mate and the feeling seems mutual.
On a totally unrelated note, I’m looking for vacant houses anywhere six million miles from Waiyaki Way before the first of January.