Time for a change...

We're moving house! Check out all our other fantastic random notions on Rantings of a Monkeyrat...see you on the other side! x

Cat Capers

The following is an excerpt to a book I began when I was fourteen. It is entirely unedited (hence the spelling and grammatical errors) but perhaps it will be one day, if and when I finish it! Enjoy.


As I said before, we stayed in a not-so-nice house in Azrou in the beginning when we first came [to Morocco]. That was for three months. Then we went back to S.A. for two weeks, then when we came back again, we rented a flat in Rabat. It says in my diary that it was like 'heaven on earth' at the time. It was in Rabat that we got our kitten. The lady from the South African embassy said that a cat had given birth in the embassy garden and being a cat and animal lover, she didn't have the heart to put them down. So she asked us if we'd like one kitten. Of course, we said yes. The cat was ginger and white, with blue eyes, and a cute white nose.


Then the naming began. We tried all sorts of names and eventually, kelly [my sister] thought of Whisky. Whisky it would be, I agreed. Then my mom pointed out that whisky was wine, and people weren't supposed to drink in this country. So Whisky was out, too..."Why not call it Whiskers?" Mom said. By this time we were so sick of names we all agreed.

Kelly ans I thought the kitten was simply adorable, but there were others who didn't. Namely, my parents. We soon found out that they were right. The little rascal was eating the tomatoes out of the veggie rack, jumping on the counter, scratching the curtains and suitcases. The thing I liked most was when it got out of the kitchen somehow (where it was locked away at night), and came and snuggled up on my chest! The worst thing, though, was when it kept climbing up onto the dining room ledge and pulling all the Christmas trimmings down.

My parents kept hasseling about having the cat spayed, since a veterinarian friend of ours said it might be a female. We thought so, too. There was a place near to where we lived called SPANA. It was a place for cats and dogs, almost like the SPCA. We found out that it was free so we took kitty there. They kept it there the morning, to do the operation, then in the late afternoon we went back to fetch it.

Apparently, they had found out that the cat was a male - on the operating table! Before that, the cat went wild, scratching and fighting to get away from the needle. He now had a scar on his stomach where they felt abour and couldn't fint the female organs. Only then did they find out that whiskers was a male.

After that we tried getting him to eat, but he wanted to scratch us as well, and it was days before the cat stopped swaying and began to recognise us. After about a week or two, he was okay. And he was allowed to sleep on the couches after that ordeal!

During the second year of living in Rabat, we hired a house in Ain Leuh, which was hours away. In the beginning, we only went there for a few days. This was because we didn't take the cat with us. We would leave loads of food all around the kitchen, and also a double load of cat sand. But eventually, we were needing to stay in Ain Leuh for longer periods of time - and we couldn't leave the cat at home for any longer than we were doing now. So we took him with us. In a transformed birdcage! This was because we couldn't find a suitable basket for him to travel in. The thought came to my mother when we got some birds from our friends. We had killed one by mistake and one of us had left the cage open so the other three escaped. Now we were left with a cage in the scullery - just taking up space, you see.

My mom actually came up with the idea (she's the smartest, fast-thinking one in the family). That night she made a cover for the cage, with one side open, just like a real box. The thing was made of material. And that's how we travelled - with the cat in the luggage compartment of course! On the first few voyages, we could actually hear him meowing - he was so loud! Some people laughed at us, but it was unique, I think.

*No animals were ever hurt, although it sounds like it, after reading it through myself! And all this was done on my very first typewriter, for which I will always be thankful. I learnt to love the written word with that bulky green lug!

A thought on souls

After reading Mary Gaitskill's Mirrorball, I began thinking about my soul, how I've flashed it around, perhaps lost it with my carelessness. Has it ever returned to me, as it has in this story? I think so, eventually. One sentence stuck with me, a sentence that I am able to relate to with every relationship I've had in the last three years (one for each year, I think). I leave it with you to consider. Have you ever felt this way?

The girl tried to feel contempt for the boy, but it is hard to have contempt for a person who's made off with part of your soul.

I am not alone

She rambles on about the past, and only pauses every few minutes to cough--a phlegm-filled and hideous sounding one. The stories she tell are ones that she's told me a thousand times before. They're about children she raised who were not her own, money that she never had, lives she saw extinguished well before their time... she's a well of information, but I'm too tired, too tired to listen. I want her to stop, to be still, so I can rest.

I know she won't be.

So she goes on, telling me of how her children have all buggered off and left her, and it's as if I'm not there for her, looking after her, day in, day out. Some days I wonder if she remembers who I am, or who she is, or even where she is. I'm too afraid to ask her, because I'm more afraid of the answer.

I'm afraid of growing old. I'm afraid of being bitter like her, of losing control of my mind and my bladder, to the point where I'd be dependent on another human like she is on me. It's something I don't want to ever face. Especially not alone.

Maybe if she wasn't so alone, she wouldn't be so bitter. Dear God above, I don't ever want to be that bitter.

Gina & Jo begin...

"Water! I can see the water!" Jo shouted with excitement. They had been riding in the Land Rover for EVER and even Gina was asleep. "Gina, we're almost there!" Jo shouted as she shook her sister awake. Gina yawned and pushed Jo away.
"You're so annoying. Can't you leave me be for one tiny minute?" Gina was two years older and wasn't talking to Mum and Dad. Ther were moving to Africa with Lions and tigers and giraffes, but Gina just wanted to stay with her friends in England.

Jo's eyes glittered as she saw the beautiful lake. It stretched so far that you couldn't even see the other side. And Mum said there were hippos, too.
"Mum, where are we now?" Jo asked
"Darling, we're in Malawi.
"Mum, will we see the hippos soon?"
"We'll see, dear. Now sit back and relax. We should arrive at the compound soon."

Just minutes later, the car shivered to a halt and Jo jumped out to stretch her aching legs. It was the middle of the day and the sun was so hot that even the ground warmed her bare feet. Jo hated wearing shoes. She loved the sandy feeling between her toes and kicking clay lumps across the ground. She looked about and saw a semi circle of white, dormitory buildings. In the centre of the compound was a wooden well with a tin bucket perched on the low wall, and all around were mango trees, laden with fresh juicy fruit. The air was warm and sweet and there wasn't a bird in sight.
"Jo, dear, would you help your father take the bags to our rooms?" her mum asked as she lugged a big white suitcase into a room on the edge of the semi circle. Gina was grumbling about the heat and pushed Jo aside as she stomped after Mum.
"Hey -" Jo protested just as Dad handed her two back packs.
"Take those inside, will you?"
"Yes, Dad." She said. What was wrong with everyone? They were in a new place, it was so different and bright but no one really wanted to be here. Stupid family. I'd have more adventures without them. I'd go down to the lake, sail a little boat, and watching the animals coming for a drink in the evenings. Jo sighed as she entered the dormitory. It was divided into four rooms with wooden partitions. Mum took her bags and put them in one of the rooms.
"You and Gina can share a bed here. The one will be your school room, and the other we can use as a bathroom. Sort of." She smiled, "We need to get a few buckets in town. This is quite exciting, isn't it?" Jo nodded, but knew Mum was trying to make the best of it. No toilet? How was that exciting?

Random thoughts

You can say the word 'statistics' without fully opening your mouth - by clenching your teeth!

I think I need to diet.

"Every man must have a sense of humour in order to win a woman."      ~ Johnny Kadri

Johnny Kadri is an idiot.

Riley was a dragon of extraordinary size,
His eyes were big as footballs and his teeth large blocks of ice.

I'm sitting next to a girl on the tube who either has a horrible case of the sniffles, or is extremely cut up about something. What should I do?

Love deficit: the only problem in our world.

Just block it out. It's amazing what you can block out when you put your mind to it!

Flap jack place: opposite Kentish Town Overground station.

Aaaaah! Kids drive me insane! Can't stand 'em!

Today I found an old walking stick near the bus stop. I helped an old lady call the police, although the reason is still unclear. I also contemplated tying a red ribbon outside my window, just because.

Orgasmic 'O' words

oppulent olfactory obtrusive originality octopus ovulate organism ostensible ovoviviparous opinionated occupation orator orangatan optometrist ornament opiate oncologist oxymoron octagon oesophagus offensive oblong obtuse ordinance obstinant ominous occult onomatopoeia origami omnibus occult obelisk orchid oscilate omnipresent organic ornate outrageous omniscient ostracise opportunistic ottoman optical oppressive obstruction oriental ovarian orifice oracle.