So my best friend’s cat, Cookie, gave birth to ANOTHER kindle of kittens.
I’m pretty sure the count is well over 25, now. I can hardly even call her ‘Cookie’ without cringing! Cookie is what you would call a cute cat with pig tails who looks dreamily at fish clouds and arches her back and hisses at adolescent boy-cats.
No. Cookie is not what you name this love-machine who sits calmly on a divan that looks like her throne and has that signature raised-eyebrows-half-closed-eyelids sooty Marilyn Monroe look. This kind of lifestyle would warrant a name like Cat-eyCatz or Sugamama or suchlike.
You know, I’m actually worried that if she doesn’t stop shooting out kitties like those tennis ball machines, she will die just like Mumtaz Mahal did.
Psssh, ‘beloved’ indeed. She was so beloved, that he immortalized his love for her in the form of the Taj Mahal but couldn’t simply slow down his baby-daddy obsession and prevent her impending death resulting from pushing out fourteen kids out of her slight, Mughal frame.
So I wonder if Cookie sees this perilous fate she is doomed to meet.
Unless……She has been promised a similar monument of vast proportions in an adjacent town to Purani Dilli called Purani Billi?
…..[Spoiler Alert :For Non- Indians : Purani Dilli = Old Delhi; Purani Billi :Old Cat. Except, Old Cat is not a place]