THE FURRY ASSASINS

Back home in Goa, We happen to support two cats who do not belong to us but have found refuge in my home. I know this will color me peculiar in the eyes of many, but I am not a cat person. Not that there is anything wrong with cats, but the bottom line is that they’re animals just like cows & goats.

These two cats who conveniently freeload off us dispute this notion and consider it heresy on my part.

They act like drunken Vikings wreaking havoc on furniture, carpets, doors, car roofs, trash bin, not to mention lawns and gardens.

I think they were going a tad too far when they tried to murder me. Now I know some will consider what I have just written as paranoia on my part, but hear me out.

On my Holidays this time round the cats got working together and attempted to kill me using the stairs. While one acted as a lookout the other darted between my legs, as I was going down the stairs, causing me to crash down the steep steps.

Once I eventually reached my destination at the bottom, I checked myself for damaged body parts. It didn’t take me long to notice that my left foot was not how it had looked a little earlier. After some judicious consideration I deduced something was amiss. I then did what all guys do when faced with personal disaster, I shouted for my MOM.

As I was waiting for assistance I noticed the cats giving each other the “thumbs” up. The conspiracy was out in the open.

When my Mom came to the open doorway at the top of the stairs, she looked down at me with a sigh and a look of resignation. She was no doubt thinking of the burden that was descending upon her again.

As I crawled out the front door, on the way to the car, I looked back to see the two would be assassins looking as if they had swallowed the proverbial canaries.

With every vibration of the car causing pain in my ankle, we bounced, jiggled and thumped our way to the doctor's clinic and because my Mom's aim was particularly good we missed not one bump or dimple in the road. She was suspiciously pleased about this.

The next thing I knew I was lying on the observation table at the clinic, deliciously contemplating what I was going to do with the cats, once I was on my feet again, when the doctor appeared over my ankle. He informed me that my ankle had been sprained. This as you may imagine came only as a minor surprise to me. He went on to say, that I needed complete rest and a few pain killers would do. Obviously this man had too much testosterone pumping through him that day or else he was an agent of the cats.

Much to the obvious disgust of the cats, I was soon at home, This happened a couple of months ago and the cats are still with us. My Mom likes the cats and I haven’t had the nerve to ask her to choose between the cats or me. You could never say when you’d be voted out.

You don’t know someone who would like a cat or two, do you?