Today around 1 pm, our guards rang the bell they use to let us know when we have a visitor or mail or when they need more ice. I went outside, and they motioned frantically for me to follow them through the front gate to the grassy area adjacent to their booth. They pointed to a very dirty kitten. I was, of course, overcome with excitement, and so our two guards set about catching it, a fifteen-minute endeavor that involved climbing our neighbor's wall and exultant yelling in Urdu when they were finally successful.
They gave it to me, wrapped in a cloth, only after I promised our dogs wouldn't eat it.
2 comments:
Hi, Emily. Nothing chases away the existentialist angst like a kitten. I think you should call him/her Kafka in honor of the huge cockroach. Love- Martha Krance
Soooo cute!! I love how you bring home animals, not knick-knacks and kitsch from the places you visit and briefly live. I assume that you are bringing Kafka home?
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