On most evenings, I walk to Zabeel Park in Karama in an attempt to lose weight. If you have visited this park you would have noticed that there are plenty of cats all around. Thin ones, fat ones, black ones, white ones, striped ones — have never seen a spotted one though. Now that would be something to write home about.
You would have also noticed that there are many good Samaritans who go around the park feeding them. Not sure if this is against some rules or not, but the cats are happy. They seem to recognise the “regular feeders” and charge towards them as soon as they spot them. They are quite friendly and wait patiently till the food is put out — then they devour it and quickly look up for more morsels if any.
As a young lad, I always had a dog and cats were anathema to me. However, all that changed one fine day after I came to Dubai.
“Can you hear someone in the hall room?” said wife.
“No I can’t”, I replied — pulling the cover over my head and turning over.
Wife: “Sounds like there is a cat in the house — go and check.”
Me: “Go check and chase it out yourself — your fault for leaving the window open.”
And then the fight almost started — but then I am the peaceful sort of guy ...!
For goodness sake, it was 11pm and I had work the next day. However, I got up — the “HE MAN” — ready to kill the cat or to put it in the right perspective — chase it out and get back to bed.
I walk towards the hall, conjuring up images of a large fierce cat with large glowing eyes — tail waving in anger, ready to pounce on me.
‘Be careful not to get scratched,’ said the voice from within.
‘Uff — let it be’, I replied — half in fear and half in disgust.
I look around. There, beaming, stands my daughter, pointing to the sofa. I rub my eyes. I can’t see a thing among the cream cushions and I had not put on my spectacles either. There was silence. Then I saw it. A little ball of cream fluff — a kitten. It was snuggled up and staring at me, almost defiantly with its little beady green eyes. Do I chase it out, do I scream, do I kill it? I had promised to do all these and more every time the topic had been broached in the past. Now here I was and it was the time of reckoning. We stared at each other, the kitten and me. Then I made a move. I went forward, picked it up and kissed it.
“Her name is Chanel,” said my daughter.
“What? No it’s not. It’s Kitty, or let’s call it Baby or Munchkins or Little One,” I said.
Why was I even discussing a name when we were not keeping it in the first place? Silly me.
“There is the litter box where she will sleep,” my daughter said.
“Who asked you to get a cat in the first place,” I asked her. Meanwhile, my wife entered the room. She smiled at the kitten and looked at me. “So ...”, she said. Obviously she had known about this and hidden it from me.
“Did I just see the kitten smile back at her?” All three exchanged knowing glances and I was the odd one out. My elder daughter had now joined in. “So cute and cuddly,” she said.
“Don’t make any plans,” I tried to sound as aggressive as possible. “I will get rid of her in the morning.” I left the room and went to bed. There is a little whining from the cat. The wife and daughters whisper, there is laughter and then silence. All three were obviously happy that I had left the scene. As I woke up the next morning, I went in search of the kitten. She was wide awake and looked imploringly at me, almost willing me to pick her up and hug her.
My heart melted. I did the unthinkable: Tickled her and picked her up. She seemed to enjoy it. But I hurriedly put her down and planned my next move. She came running to me, mewing. “Come to dada,” I said and picked her up. “Dada”? What the hell is wrong with me. I was supposed to be getting rid of this little creature. That was the plan. I was a no-nonsense sort of a guy. No cats in this house, I told myself. So I put her down, gave her some food and sat there, as she first sniffed at it for a few moments and then began eating. I would have to get her out of the house before the others woke up — that’s final.
More than a year has gone by since then and she is still with us — very much a part of the family. With two daughters, a wife and now a fourth female to contend with! I play with her daily, several times a day. She likes me and crouches every time I look at her and try to scare her. She enjoys rough play, nibbles at my fingers and toes and comes running to greet me as I enter the door. I say ‘bye’ when leaving for work and she is the first thing I look for when I return. Today, as I lay on the carpet, she was all over me and we had such fun. I certainly did. I felt relaxed and very amused.
As I key in these memories, she is on my lap, cuddled up and fast asleep. I guess we have a pet and YES we are going to keep her for as long as we can.
Michael Guzder is an educational professional, who writes for pleasure and blogs for fun.
