Same food. 2.5 years. “Clumsy Bumsy has worked the best for her!” I hear her tell everyone. Adoke sheriya. All that is fine, but even the best gets boring after this long, no? She has changed jobs in less time. She orders in every other day and expects me to eat the same brand roz roz.
Also, she named me Begum for Christ’s sake! Oh wait, should it be for Allah’s sake? Her parents go to church, she doesn’t, and my name is Begum... Wait, am I adopted? Phew—that’s a relief! I don’t want to be carrying their hypertensive, anxiety-ridden genes!
Stupid mosquito—[Lick, lick, lick, lick. Slurp, lick.] It soils me with its needle mouth. [Lick, lick, lick, lick. Slurp.]
Where was I, Bulbul? If you stopped your incessant flapping around, you’d remember, no?
Yeah...right, Begum is my name, no? And my food is called... Clumsy? Clumsy? Where is the match tell me. I finally read the name on the packet this week and I was appalled! Two and half years I have been eating something called Clumsy——Bumsy?
Oh wait, that’s not all. She has prevented my saint-like aunt from giving me treats. Accused her of “fattening” me up and falling for my “manipulation.”
[Lick, lick, lick, lick. Slurp... Lick, lick, lick, lick. Slurp.] Right paw done!
I heard it. Resolved to revolt, I’ve puked a little bit every other day this week. I squeezed out a neat little puke log just this morning! After the big splatter wall art from two days ago, this was rather tame!
I eat very little these days you know, that too only after great cajoling. Then I puke again. Serves them right. I sniff at my food in disgust, run away, and eat when no one is looking! They probably think you ate it, Bulbul! Hahahahaha ! I clever!
She now blames the puking on the grass too and has banned Appachan from feeding me those luscious green sprigs. How much more can I look at them and meow wistfully?
This humidity is not making anything better. Why would you pick this season to have babies, Bulbul? Your furless, flightless young will melt, no?
[Lick, lick, lick, lick. Slurp...slurp.]
Yesss! This armpit is spotless! Unlike that silly tomcat who comes visiting. He smells baaad!
Now for the most important part of my grooming! [Yeow! Lick, lick, lick, slurp. Lick, lick, lick—] Uff, I can’t reach that spot of dry poop. It seems to be stuck. Which god made the asshole so far from the tongue? Such a logistical nightmare this is! Even feline flexibility like mine is unable to get all the shit stains out! They have to run behind me every two weeks with a pet wipe to clean my asshole!
Oh wait—did I hear her open the treat bag? Is my stone-hearted Ammu finally giving me the treats I deserve? I won! BRB.
No, I can’t wait to see your babies hatching, you silly Bulbul. Your food grows on trees, flutters in the air, and you can catch it at whim. I, the Begum, have to be cute or starve to get her to bring out the good stuff. How long will you wait to chit-chat before running for a treat? Especially when you’ve already paid for it in advance with belly squishes, huh?
[Dashes off]
[Sniff, sniff!]
The good stuff is layered on top of my food! Oh my stars!
[Nom-nom-nom-nom.
Nom-nom-nom-nom.
Slurp.]
Meowwwww! Oww, oww, oww! I will sing you my people’s song. What delicious food, Ammu! Meow some more pleaaaaaaase—owwwwww—give me a little more, please, thank you!
[Nom, nom, nom!]
Oh goodies the Zoomies are hitting me!
[ Zips around like a rogue bullet and crashes into the grill startling the bulbul and the sleeping Appachan and almost trips Ammachi, who only laughs lovingly in response. Chitta nods her head in affection. Only Ammu mutters under her breath. B stops to eat what remains on her plate.]
[Nom-nom-nom-nom.
Nom-nom-nom-nom.
Slurp.]
Oh no, the good stuff is going down too fast again—[nom, nom]—but I can’t stop—[nom]—uh oh, volcano rumble incoming... oh wait, noooooo—[Bwaaaak, bwaaak, bwaaak... puke... splatter... bwaaaak... puke some more.]
Oh dear. She looks so mad.
Ammu—look, my belly! Come on, squish it. Maybe another treat?
Puke? What puke?
**
Notes
This is not an advertisement for Clumsy Bumsy or a commissioned post in anyway. But haan if you are wondering how Begum maintains her silken coat and flawless youthful looks, part of the answer lies there. Bonus it is run by lovely people who will patiently answer your questions.
This is fictional. Begum’s actual personality is a tad more tragedy queen meets revolver rani. Maybe I will level up in my writing to show these two tones too. Meanwhile the photographs are closer to the truth than the text.
If you know the reference to the caption of the first picture, we are probably soulmates.
There was a Bulbul-Begum frenemyship blossoming. The chicks hatched and flew away. Currently there are three mongoose babies that hold her fancy.
Tell me about your cats or point me to pieces where people have written about theirs?
Adorable! ☺️ Begum and bulbul.. cleaning and eating and meowing.. felt like i was sitting in your house.
Moley! poochayude katha rasakaramaanu. Kollaam!