Tales from the Walauwa

by Cat O' Logge

The other day I happened to be minding my own business. Sort of walking into all the rooms at my will and pleasure and nosing and pawing things just to satisfy my curiosity. I was doing it because I felt rather bored and after a while the very act of walking about seemed to bore me, so I set off to find Rudolphus.

The great idiot was outside with the daughter of the house and I too hopped across to join them. After a while we got to the bottom of the garden, and just beyond the live hedge (a very live hedge, mind you. It's made up of all sorts of trees which nearly graze the blue sky. I myself have a little holiday home sort of thing in where a little cave like place is formed in the great roots of the davata tree) is a paddy field all overgrown with weeds and such.

Sometimes both Rudolphus and I trail after the daughter of the house when she takes it into her pretty head to go for a little walk in these parts. But today just as we were getting ready to creep through the usual place in the hedge we heard some people shouting. So all three of us made our way to a more verdant place in the hedge to have a bit of a peep.

The chase

Goodness me! It appeared that several young men wee chasing after something. They had great big sticks in their hands and after all their running they came to a certain spot and started to thrash all the tall grass with their rather primitive, but effective weapons. Oh, and you'd never believe who emerged from all that grass! Why, it was only a little porcupine! The way the young men were going on, you'd have thought they were chasing after a thief or a nari bana who had come for a village lass or some such person. Ah, but no. It was a little porcupine making shrill sounds.

Now had I met a porcupine in the garden I wouldn't really have gone and given him brotherly kisses or anything. Most probably I'd have run back into the house. But seeing such an animal being so brutally pursued and on top of everything listening to its cries, I felt hot anger rising within my cat guts. Both Rudolphus and I could see that our pretty companion was not enjoying the sight either.

Huge fine

Suddenly she leaped into the paddy field with a loud cry and waving around that awful mobile phone she carries about herself all the time (as much as I hate that thing), she kept yelling that killing porcupines carries a huge fine and a six month jail sentence. Later she told her parents that she just made it up because she didn't know the real punishment for being cruel to animals.

To have a girl springing upon them from the bushes had been enough to surprise the boys who knew our heroine. She too started stammering when she realized that she knew these boys. It was the usual lot who come to the walauwa to collect goods for dansal and such kind deeds.

Lamely, the boys mumbled that no, they were just wondering what it was and slowly (scratching their heads) they made their way back. In a little while little "porcy" put out his little snout from a clump of grass. He saw our little party (Rudolphus was ready to go and lick him too) and two seconds later he took it back in and was gone, hurrying home.

"I can imagine how happy Steve Irwin must've felt with his work" said the daughter of the house to her father in the evening.