The smoking kitten

I was planning to write a weekly article about herbs, but I decided to dedicate my time to another, rather unexpected topic: cats. Well, I could write about the culinary use of Catnip, but its use is rather uncommon and limited to soups, sauces and salads. But don't worry; as you will see, this article will contain a culinary term here and there, and I promise: we're not making 'Cat à la King'

One night, I came home from work and it had been one of those days where everything that possibly could have gone wrong had gone terribly wrong. I had been living in South Africa for just over a year, and one of the things enjoy about South Africa is its biodiversity. So, as usual, upon coming home, I would go straight to my garden and inhale the fresh air and the perfumes of indigenous plants and herbs. Having had such a bad day at work, I looked up at the sky and said: "God, give me one good reason to stay in this place". When I lowered my head, my attention was immediately drawn to a whitish, mouse-like creature. After closer inspection, it turned out to be a just-born kitten, apparently abandoned by its mother.

I immediately kept it warm au bain-marie and in a panic, searched the Internet on 'what to do with abandoned kittens?'. So, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, here is a website that tells you all you need to know: Kitten Rescue. This website saved the life of Gorby. Yes, since it had a little rusty spot on its head we named it after Michael Gorbatchev. While Gorby was happily sleeping on the stove, we went outside, thinking: "Only one kitten in a nest, that is impossible". A thorough search brought us to a second screaming kitten: Ninja (you can see Ninja fully grown in the sidebar of this blog).

We took our two orphans to the Vet the next day, and he claimed never to have seen such a small kittens. Their eyes were still closed. After two weeks of bottle-feeding the youngsters, he ensured us that their chances of survival were very realistic, and that we had made a miracle happen. About five months later only, we encountered the mother and two other kittens of the nest in our garden. The similarities in their appearance were amazing, but one could clearly see the results of the struggle for life in the wild in comparison to the Whiskas treatment at home; we called them Nanji and Gyrbo. Last week, Gyrbo, our feral friend, died.

But the mourning didn't last long. The day after Gyrbo's departure, we found a nest of five kittens in our garden. One of them was smoking a Havana cigar (see picture). You can have a look at their adventures in my Photo Gallery.