“Grrr—chrrr-grrr"
Chainsaw searing through the bush below my window woke me up
on Saturday, not the lullaby one hopes for in the wee hours. A sound that disproved
my bed sheet theory. A theory that states that
“One in state of rest or unrest cannot just get up from the
3600 thread count Egyptian cotton bed set, you have to peel yourself like a
really old stubborn sticker that only comes out in tattered parts stuck on your
favorite table”.
I sprung up to figure what the ruckus was about. A tiny
kitten had got stuck on the Paolo Verde tree which stands next to my balcony
and a fire truck was here to its rescue.
An interesting scene unfolded in front my now alert eyes. The
owner of the misplaced kitten was standing in a corner ready to break into sobs
any moment. Three unruffled 6ft fireman stood next took her and took little
notice and continued to look at the fourth fireman who was trying to trim the
hedges so that he could place his ladder to reach the kitten.
I am not a fan of kittens but this one was particularly
ugly. It had no fur on its body and was pink and skinny, to me it looked like a
skinny pink rotisserie chicken with beady eyes and pointy ears.
Eucck.
I was ready to
step back in my room when I heard someone shout “Watch out”.
I turned around
and found that the fireman was near my balcony and had spooked the kitten. The
horrendous creature was now leaping (read flying at 35 mph) towards me. I was
in a dilemma, should I deflect it like a volleyball or try to catch it in mid
air ?
I did neither, I dropped it.
Letting go of all her inhibitions, the owner shrieked, am
sure now waking people around the block. The cat lay still near my feet not
moving. The tables had now turned. I was suddenly the evil one responsible for
the cat’s unfortunate situation.
The fireman leaning on my balcony witnessed the sea of
horror emotions on my face and grinned.
I stood frozen as the fireman stepped on my balcony and
lifted the cat up, he rubbed the ears and pressed on the kitten’s chest, the
kitten opened its eyes. Thank god for 9 lives of the cat. I am sure this one was
9/9.
I wasn’t sure who was more relived the owner of the kitten
on finding the kitten back in her arms or me that I was not witness to a cat
kill.
Alas somebody did climb my balcony, not my Romeo with
flowers but a bulky stranger holding a near dead cat.
Back to my bed. Happy thoughts.
Only Happy thoughts.
