Much like the UK, in Kenya, pets form a huge part of a lot of people’s lives.
They talk to them, sing to them, take them out for walks, collapse with them on the sofa, make them part of the family. Some, you buy pedigree. Some, you buy from the street kids on the roundabout and some… some just seem to turn up and make themselves at home.
And so it was with the house we stayed at in Mombasa.
Chairman Meow, Ghengis Cat and Mewgabe all, to varying degrees, shared our stay at the coast.
Ever present at the supper table, the best fed cats in town didn’t seem to mind their new names. They also didn’t seem that inclined to make their way back to wherever it was they came from.
Dogmatix turned up on the second day. Slinking along, almost apologetically until sure of her welcome, the barrel shaped mzee soon became part of the family. She was out enthusiastic (and only) supporter of impromptu cricket games.
At night, she helped herself to the sofa. She kept our feet warm when the rain belted down (the rain in Africa is like nowhere else. Huge drops of rain onto hot ground produce the amazing smell of rain and sun and murham)
But finally, of course, all good things come to an end. I fancy that when we finally drove away after a week in their company, I saw them, all lined up in the drive, a small tear on their furry faces.
They’d never had it so good.
I wonder what they’re up to now. What about you? Have you ever adopted a pet? Have you had one thrust upon you (I know you have English Mum!)
I’m sure Bert was too!
