How curiosity (almost) killed the cat.

Its 5:45 pm on a Thursday and the cat’s in the toilet.

We have this cute as a button white kitten that I found abandoned a few weeks ago whilst walking the dogs. I think she was a few days old when we stumbled across her. Naturally, being an animal lover, I brought her home and washed and fed her. She had no idea how to sip from a saucer so I improvised by hand feeding her with a syringe. Hours later, my Baby Mama walked into the house, saw the kitten, ‘adopted’ it and christened her Miaow Puss.

Since then Miaow has been raised by hand and grown extremely attached to Baby Mama and myself. Case in point, I like to read and I have a shy bowel. Stay with me, I’m going somewhere with this. So, to kill two birds with one stone I take a book with me to the loo and wait for my shy bowel to come out of itself. ‘Okuvaayo gyeli’ you could say. So, while I’m seated, reading and waiting, Miaow will – without fail – idly wander into the loo and sit in front of me watching every last move. And I do mean every last move. Before you ask, no I don’t close the door, not fully anyway, I like to be able to conversate with Baby Mama if she’s in the room – when you get a live-in Baby Mama you’ll understand.

A little digression here, Baby Mama has allergies, which manifest a lot of the time in a runny nose. So she goes through a lot of tissues. Naturally, one does not get up from the sofa or bed to walk to the trash bin in the kitchen so normally the used tissues get piled up in a little waste paper basket by the bedside before they’re tossed away. When Miaow was littler, it amused her no end to try and get into the basket and then one day she was big enough to leap into it from the bed. A fact we discovered when we opened the door to find the bedroom floor strewn with shredded tissues. Since then we’ve made a game out of wadding up ever larger pieces of tissue for her to take apart.

Now back to the loo. Miaow must have figured out that the balls of tissue come from the roll that hangs above the white throne so whenever I’m … you get the picture … she’ll come and sit in front of me, and wait, until either I rip off a piece for her to play with or, she’ll just climb into and curl up inside the shorts/pants at my feet. I usually let her have the tissue because let’s face it, would you want to pull your pants up with a cat in there? After the first time, I too didn’t want a repeat.

As A leads to B and so on and so forth, Miaow grew an interest in the sound of the loo flushing and would try and stretch up to the seat to see what was going down, pun intended. But because she wasn’t yet big enough to reach the seat, I thought nothing of flushing the loo repeatedly for her benefit if only to see her try to jump up onto the seat. So, today, Thursday at 5:43 pm, I was fixing supper, slicing tomatoes, carrots and onions and the onion fumes got to Baby Mama who then needed to find her tissues to sneeze into.

She sauntered to the bedroom. Took a tissue out of the packet. Blew into it. Walked into the bathroom. Pushed the flush button. Tossed the used tissue into the loo. Turned to the door just in time to see Miaow leap after the wad of tissue, catch it and land headfirst in the swirling waters of the loo.

Time check: 5:45 pm.

Much cursing, meowing and (I was told later) scratching followed.

I heard my name called really loudly. Interspersed with swearwords I was previously unaware existed. I did not saunter to the bedroom; I hurried (ng’omuntu anaba ku lubalaza l’omuzigo) with a sinking feeling in my gut. Yes I know, another pun.

And that is how I discovered the literal meaning of the expression, ‘curiosity killed the cat’.



How curiosity (almost) killed the cat.

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