First let me introduce myself…… (I’ve always wanted to use that line -it’s the opening of Jungle book, spoken by one of the greatest cats of all time, Bagheera)
Back to me. I am Sid the, one and only, Barefoot Cat. Sharon has been my friend and partner since we met about two years ago. At the time she owned Barefoot Kitchen, a pretty garden restaurant in Muldersdrift, here in South Africa. She has since sold, but as that is where my writing began, I will bring you those stories as I originally wrote them.
Pour yourself a glass of wine, sit back and enjoy………….
Being the most important person here, I get to chat to the customers, listen to their stories and catch up on lots of gossip. Humans are fascinating creatures. Like cats, they come in different shapes, sizes and colours. Some are noisy, some are quiet, some are old, some are young, and most are somewhere in-between. However, unlike cats, they love to talk. Stories and feelings are easily shared over a cup of coffee, glass of wine or a meal. I am yet to meet a secretive human, although I have met many secretive cats.
The restaurant closes at 4pm, and it gets pretty quiet around here. One can only sleep for so many hours, so perhaps I should share some of these stories with you. Would you like that? I’ll write a blog and give it to our IT dude. He’s a bit of a perfectionist but knows what he’s doing. No doubt he will explain everything to me in fine detail, so I will do what the Sharon does. Politely listen with half an ear, understand nothing and then say, “Sounds great, do it”.
What a fantastic idea. There will be one a week and we will, obviously, start with mine…….
I moved in here in sometime in May after a hair-raising few months. Up until last Christmas I lived a simple, but happy, six years as an only cat. The humans loved me, fed me well and spoilt me on demand. The only trouble I ever had was when they sent me off to the vet for the ‘snip’. Ignoring them for more than a week was a suitable punishment and they didn’t try anything like that again.
You must be wondering why I left? Woman troubles – that’s why.
Mia, the cutest Siamese, moved in next door and I, being the sociable and caring neighbour, visited her daily – just to be sure she was settling in. News travels fast and before long, all the tom-cats in the neighbourhood were hanging around, serenading her night and day. The little minx flirted with us all and the fur began to fly. Naturally I was her favourite, so the inevitable happened. Jealous, because none could compete with me, they ganged up and attacked. They came at me in waves and as I fought one off, there was another attacking me. At least 100 cats suffered from my claws that night, but eventually I had to retreat.
Tucked up into a tall tree I waited for the right moment to go home. But the gods had other plans. Thunder clapped as the worst storm in decades broke out. Lightening hit my tree and I ran, and ran and ran some more, eventually collapsing into a heap somewhere in the veldt.
The next few months were horrendous. I was lost, my war wounds were infected, my collar was matted into my neck, I got thinner and thinner. I couldn’t figure out where these wild cats got their food – I hadn’t seen a tin of Whiskers, or even a bag of Catmor anywhere.
Finally, weakened and near my end, I made the decision not to spend my final hours alone, dying unnoticed, so I staggered into a local restaurant. I put my head against the human who lifted me up, and the last thing I remembered were the words “You poor thing, it doesn’t look like you are going to make it. Let me put you in my office so you can go in peace”
Thank goodness I’m a cat. One life down, eight to go.
Until next week, keep ‘feline’ good