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Sundays

There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest  was very welcome. I loved to sleep.  I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for  midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean  that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon.  The pastor, in fact,  would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother  after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened  \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe  tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The on...

Dinner for the Cat

"Open your mouth wide," the cat told me.

I did as directed.

"Now put your foot in," he said encouragingly.

"I can't, it's far too smelly," I protested.

"Then change your socks, the maid must have kept a clean pair somewhere," he said firmly.

"You chewed most of them up," I told him.

"Doesn't matter, then put your naked foot in your mouth," he commanded.

"I'm sorry, I goofed up," I said contritely.

"Such bungling can't be tolerated," he raved.

"Sorry," I apologised.

"You don't forget to be an ass most of the time," he said.

"But I don't wear a dunce cap these days, it went out of fashion!" I exclaimed.

"Then open your mouth wide and dunk your tootsies in," he said determinedly.

"I'm sorry, I'll never be late with your dinner again," I implored.

"You promise?" he barked.

"Now don't start that dogie act of yours," I said.

"Get my dinner," he said imperiously.

"I will get it at once," I said scurrying out and scooting back a second later with the cat's dinner.

"Now put it down before my face," he said licking his chops, "What's for dinner?"

"Sausages, chicken breasts, lamb chops, fish fillets, barbequed shrimps and ice-cream," I said humbly.

"You forgot the wine," he remonstrated.

"Do you want red wine or white?" I asked.

"Look it up on Google," he said beginning hungrily with the sausages, "It tells you the correct wine to have with dinner."

"I will do that," I said.

"Have you had your dinner?" he asked racing through one course after another.

"I will have it after you have finished," I said meekly.

"What are you having?" he asked belching.

"The usual bread and water," I said.

"You should watch your weight," he said, "Don't eat white bread, have the brown variety," he instructed polishing off the ice-cream.

"The doctor also said so," I replied.

"Good, next time take me along," he said yawning.

"Why, are you ill?" I asked concerned.

"No, my appetite seems to be going down," he said licking his front paws delicately.

"But you should go to a vet," I pointed out.

"Certainly not, vets are for horses, dogs and turtles," he snapped.

"I forgot that cats are human too," I said contritely.

"Is the bed ready?" he asked.

"Certainly," I replied.

"And, the pillows fluffed?" he asked.

"Just as you like it," I said.

"Did you get the Beethoven CD I asked you to get?" he asked.

"Fur Elise is also my favourite," I said enthusiastically, "I have got the CD."

"Let's listen to it before going to sleep," he said.

I switched on the player in the bedroom, as the cat jumped into bed and pulled up the bedclothes.

He fell asleep quickly and I switched off the player after the music stopped.

I noticed that the cat's leg was twitching; he was dreaming.

"Open your mouth wide," he said snoring gently.

"Now put your foot in," he said dreamily.

I switched off the lights and eased into bed with a sigh.










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