TWO BEAUTIFUL GIRLS

Last year I stumbled upon a notebook - its cover caught and intrigued me instantly - I loved those beautiful, big green eyes against the raven black hair. 

So I bought it and filled it with romantic poetry and short stories.

Naturally, when that vision waltzed right into my life that August, I was instantly curious - and so I met, and named her, Chachi. 

She was not mine, just a neighbour's roaming queen smitten with the late and great, Salah Al'Din.

Adorable, so he tried his best - for two mating seasons - but the poor guy was impotent, and soon enough the both of us just got annoyed with her constant moaning for the action she desperately required, but he was unable to give.

By February this year, we both had had enough, and pretty much disliked her already. 

A lot has changed since then. I got a huge dog, a girl named Gabriela, with a Boerboel's loyal heart and a Rottweiler's vengeful unpredictability. 

As for Salah Al'Din, well he mysteriously disappeared one night in September this year - I want to believe that it was a giant owl that got him, but everyone else suspects he most likely became a Sotho delicacy.

Thing is, a lot has changed for dear Chachi since then too - her 'loving' owners up and moved away, but left her behind - and thus the little queen became a street cat and poor beggar overnight, in the process.

Well, she found her way to our back yard - the local haunt for feral cats and deserted feline pets - but unlike the rest, she still feels welcome here, and is in no way human shy. 

Thus, I now have a regular visitor in my test kitchen - much to Gabriela's fascination.

Problem is, Chachi is young at heart, like a little monkey - mischievous, bad mannered, easily distracted and inclined to get too close to danger.

She's unduly comfortable in potentially life threatening situations, without even knowing it.

Then, suddenly overwhelmed and startled by the realisation, she hisses, smacks and runs for her life. 

All things that make Gabriela very, very excited - the same sort of excitement she displays when she sees a chicken and I can't help but think, she thinks, it's KFC.

Which ever way, I have this gnawing suspicion that she has already chosen me, whether I like it or not; it feels like I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. 

Yea, I loved my cat and I miss him, but honestly, I'm not quite ready for a new one. Even so, I still would hate to have to bury her - be it because she got ripped to pieces, or died of starvation on my watch.

WORDS: rhodenel©22NOV2024 

PHOTOGRAPHY: rhoderuth©NOV2024