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!
No comments:
Post a Comment