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| Sunday, 19 March 2006 |
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Talks from the Walauwa : Tales by Cat O'logge I had a most interesting walk in the garden today. Pala the gardener got a good telling off from the mother of the house, for pulling up some expensive flowering plants thinking they were weeds. It felt good to see him scratching his head, looking about rather shiftily.
Then I trotted off to a far corner in the garden. Nobody comes here usually, but something in the bushes caught my eye. Oh my! someone had thrown bags and bags of garbage again in there. Tore up a few to see if I could find something good enough for a snack. (I bet Leela the maid pinches my food, getting fat at an alarming rate, she is) Aha, found some prawn shells and fish bones. But the rest were shampoo bottles, pol kudu, icecream containers (Alas, quite empty) various polythene bags, and broken mugs and such. Quite an assortment, but you'd think they could have added more chicken bones and fish heads. But I certainly extend my sincere gratitude... er... scratch that "sincere", if you please, I suppose all gratitude is sincere (even that of a cat's)... to whoever was responsible for this utterly delightful garbage surprise I had. More people should be encouraged to dump waste in plastic bags into bushes growing in other people's gardens. What a simply delightful idea. Anyway it certainly couldn't have been Magilin the cook because all the garbage from the Walauwa is put into pits (dug regularly by Pala). My day seemed to get better and better. For when I strolled about to the gate I discovered that Leela the buxom maid and the village postman had advanced their relationship, so to speak. Leela's surreptitious glances and the postman's "accidentally" dropping of letters for Leela to pick up had given away to idle chit chat. They were discussing the weather, but if anyone should recognise a tomcat, I should, so I bet you anything, they won't be discussing weather for long. Indeed I think I just won that bet because father of the house came upto the gate in his rickety old car (Saturday marketing and what not. I could even smell the fish) and honked loudly at the postman who was seated on his bicycle at an extremely awkward angle I should think (later Rudslphus the dog said that he must have been flexing his muscles). However, I was quite content to have been able to watch this drama too. Then I trotted on after the car. It always pays to see where they put that parcel of fish. Ooh, they've left it on a table, they've left it on a table... |
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But he felt nervous when he saw me watching him. If someone were to ask
me what should be about Pala, I'd recommend a telling-off a day, just to
make sure he understands who the boss is, and such. My side still hurts
where he kicked me last week. Ah well... it sure felt good to see him
squirming about (my side almost felt better). 
