Rumours say that cats do not travel. Well, I have actually travelled a bit before I settled down in this town north of London. Believe it or not, before I came here, I have actually made a round trip between Gloucestershire and North Finchley, twice. Twice! I almost lost one of my lives!It happened when my sister, Sparky, and myself, were about 1 year and half. Papa had an unpleasant incident and decided to join a relative in London for a couple days. He made this sudden decision so we had to pack and leave at “midnight”. My Papa is a descent man but what urgency on earth made him set us off travelling at midnight, in a cage? I could only described the Papa at that time was as mad as a cat in heat.
The upheaval of the country road was a torture. We protested, “Meow!!Meow!” But Papa did not stop the car. We moaned, “Meow!! Meow!!” He continued. “Meow!! Meow!!” We screamed. “Meow!! Meow!!”
As our journey persisted in the dark country road, I quieted. There was only us and the smooth classic FM in this expedition. In this weird tranquillity, Sparky made an abrupt funny voice out of the blue. Her “Meow!!Meow!!” was gentle but they actually sounded more like “Blur!!Blur!!”.
Mama cried, “Listen to that funny noise, Papa!” Papa and Mama burst into laughters. How naïve...
Little did they knew that Sparky was saying, “Mama, Papa, I am swallowing my sick.” Her “meow” was distorted because she was trying to inhale her sick.
Papa and Mama did realize – a few seconds later - when my miserable cry for help “Meow!!” echoed in the car simultaneously with the burst of Sparky’s roast chicken dinner, on my bum! I could not help but cry like a human baby as this was the most humiliating moment in my life. It stunk! The odour of Sparky’s roast chicken dinner filled the air . “MUAOW!!!!”
Before Papa could find a service station, Sparky started to lick her puke from my bum.
“No…” Mama cried for help, but there was nothing she could do to stop Sparky redigesting her roast chicken.
(To be continued…)
Misty
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