Little White Boy

Contrary to what he might like you to believe, D.O.G. is thriving here. As he moves into his golden years (he’s 16 now) he seems to be appreciating the sun and the shade in our compound while at the same time complaining about everything for attention, his usual modus operandi. He goes on little walks looking for mice (of which he’s eaten many and at least one lizard which he promptly threw back up). He has his spots in the bushes where he can sleep in the shade or the sun without worrying about being disturbed by anyone. And he has us to answer to his every need and to watch over him in case any stray cats or dogs threaten his way of life. He’s looking thinner than he ever has I assume from the exercise. He’s still an endless source of entertainment for Amber and I and now for our new friends here. D.O.G. must have scored high on the karma spectrum in his last life.

The first time D.O.G. went outside in our new home a large group of small birds landed on the fence nearby to check him out. It was as if they had never seen a cat before. I had yet to see a cat in Uganda too so I wondered what they were saying as the birds chirped up a storm and D.O.G. scowled back at them. Many of our Ugandan friends, upon meeting D.O.G., have been shocked at how big he is so I imagine those birds were maybe thinking the same. So D.O.G. is sitting outside in the fresh air for the first time in a long, long time, smelling the air and feeling the sunlight when someone walked by. You’d think he had never seen a black man before because he sunk to the ground and crawled back inside. Is our innocent little cat prejudiced? He’s having a hard time feeling comfortable with Ugandans. It doesn’t help that many of our Ugandan friends don’t know how to pet a cat properly. Our cleaning lady, while perfectly comfortable with him now, had a long period of getting used to an animal as big as D.O.G. lounging around the house. If it were a goat or a chicken I think they wouldn’t think twice but D.O.G. is a cat. Maybe they think of him as a small leopard. Maybe D.O.G. would like to be thought of as a small leopard.

Early one morning, the sun just a hint on the horizon, I woke up to something big and black flying around our bedroom. Recently our friend Danny and I spent 45 minutes trying to get a bat out of one of our neighbors’ apartment so it seemed it was our turn. D.O.G. was already on the case, following it around the room on the floor. Uh oh, I better keep him away from that so I got up and the thing flew into the other room with me and D.O.G. in pursuit. I didn’t really know what to do so for some reason I grabbed a towel. I could tell from D.O.G. that it had flown into the bookcase and was hanging out about 2 shelves down. What do I do? I moved to the other side of the room and crouched down to get a look. Just as I was kneeling down it flew out straight at me. I threw the towel over it. It sank to the ground and there was no movement, just me and the cat staring at a towel for a moment. Then I picked it up slowly. It wasn’t a bat it was a giant black butterfly. D.O.G. tried to bite it and took a piece if the wing off as it flew off somewhere. He also got a face full of black powder. I felt awful for traumatizing a butterfly. Traumatizing a bat is acceptable for some reason but a beautiful butterfly is kinda sacred, no? It survived our attack only for a few hours. Later that day I found it’s body on the floor.

Many of you know, D.O.G. makes friends pretty fast. I’ve pulled him out or and seen him run out of nearly every apartment in the row. If he sees an open door he takes it as an invitation to come in and have a look around. Some people love it when a cat unexpectedly rubs up against their leg, some people don’t. I think a lot of people don’t think of cats as pets. I’ve gotten the impression from many people that cats are dirty. Understandable when you get a look at a stray cat around here, and anywhere for that matter. This has led to some startling reactions when we tell them that he sleeps in our bed. We’ve had some puzzling expressions when we explain to them that D.O.G. doesn’t pee outside, he pees in this little tub where we put newspaper we’ve cut into little strips for him to pee on. “What does he eat?” you ask. Well, his prescription food is not sold in stores here so we had to carry over for him a YEARS SUPPLY! The lengths we go to please our little guy are not the practice of many folks, let alone many Ugandan folks. But after 16 years of taking care of what may in the end be the worlds’ most expensive cat, it’s just what you do. here's D.O.G. napping in his favorite mint patch just outside our place. Now that's inner peace.