Okay, really this post should be called furbaby because we only have one. But this is part of my attempt to convince my husband that while our elusive human baby has yet to materialize, we really need to fill that void (as much as is possible) with another furbaby. A kitten or perhaps a puppy?? Pleading eyes, batting eyelashes, angelic look.
Yeah, it hasn't been working.
So let me introduce to you our first and (as yet) only furbaby. Her name is Mika. She's a strange sort of baby. Okay, first the obvious: the tail, pointed ears and sharp teeth, oh and let's not forget, claws, that never fail to remind both of us that she is not a baby and nor should she be held or treated as such! Though sometimes I can get away with it for a couple of seconds and escape with no major injuries... Alright, she's not that bad. She just wants love on her own timetable that's all.
But maybe that's all because of how she came to join our little family. Two years ago, I had just come to Marrakech to start a new job and to hopefully make a life. I remember the day she came into my life so clearly. I was only about a week in and I was on a steep learning curve. It had been a superbly crappy day. I couldn't wait to get home, and while struggling to find a cab in a city that has a major public transport problem, and while trying not to look like too much of a confused tourist so that I wouldn't get ripped off, the heavens opened and I got drenched in a freak-downpour. Yep, it was just one of those days.
Returning home miserable and wet, and knowing Mr. T was away, I just wanted to get into bed and get this day over with as quickly as possible. My mother-in-law greeted me at the door, I've got a present for you! She exclaimed excitedly. Huh? I grumbled through shivering teeth, my soaked hair dripping on the carpet. She led me by the hand to the corner of the living room and there curled up in a little ball, no bigger that the palm of my hand, was this tiny white and ginger kitten sleeping soundly. I couldn't resist and picked her up. She was so little! It was love at first sight. Where did you get her? I asked.
This old man in the medina was holding her and I stopped to look and he offered her to me as a gift. My MIL explained. He said many tourists had asked to have her but he loved this little creature too much. So then I told him about you, Clare. He told me he had a special feeling about you and so wanted to give this little kitten to us. He said he thought she would have a good life with us.
As I looked into her little blinking green eyes, life in Morocco was starting to look much brighter. That night she slept next to my bed and when I awoke and stretched and yawned, as is my morning custom, I looked over to her and she repeated the same. Yes, we were going to be great friends of that I was sure. Though that friendship was about to be tested. A lot.
I took her to the vet for the obligatory check-up. For a newbie in Marrakech that is no easy feat. Vet? Where the hell am I going to find a vet? Well I did eventually find one. And this would be the first trip of many. To sum up the visit:
Where did you get this thing from?
Uhh.. the medina.
Hmpf, a sound of contempt emanated from the Vet. Well she has an eye infection, a nose infection, a mouth infection and her ears are full of flea-eggs!
Flea-eggs? Eww, gross.
The vet proceeded to dig out the eggs in Mika's ears, which she did not like one bit. There was hissing, scratching and struggling, and a falling incident. Mika hid under the bookcase in the vet's office and I had to crawl underneath to get her out. She clung to me. Please don't let that horrible woman at my ears again! Unfortunately, there was no other way.
Once it was done and her ears filled with this sticky gel, 6 medicine bottles later and a not too hefty bill, we were out of there. But now it was my turn. Every morning and every evening, I had to clean out her ears, put the drops in her eyes, put cream on her nose and squirt medicine down her throat. Yes our friendship was tested. Yes I was covered in scratches. But I still loved her totally.
Now she is all grown up and is a well-established member of the family. No one can imagine life without her. She still does weird stuff, like attack your legs as your walk down the hall, she only drinks water from the bathroom tap and has a crazed-obsession with cue-tips. I have a theory that this particular neurosis stems from her early trauma of all that ear cleaning. Perhaps she is getting her own back? Here's a little clip of her in attack-mode, but still being very loveable at the same time:
Sorry for the bumpy filming she was attacking the camera strap. Oh and ignore the creepy music in the background - Mr. T is a musician and was creating scary ambient music for a new project he's working on and was definitely not created for this piece of skillfully filmed reportage. Ahem.
