Guest, I do not know where to start with you but since I have always wanted to spat it lemme do this ASAP. I hate it when you give me a call to alert that you are on your way while on my end am always planning how to escape the four walled boredom that surrounds me. I plan on how to accommodate your stay, the chit chat that shall consume our days in one roof, the movies that shall pass time and rarely notice one another and when you shall leave are always well outlaid.
Guest, when I cook one meal and out of the blues you pop out is not taken lightly. Your unannounced presence tempts me to send you away hungry, hide the food or eat it as you stare into my mean face. More so, the tendency to show up when am cooking my favorite meal makes me curse the aroma that is always welcoming you at my doorstep.
I do not know why but you always know the A-Z of my life. Like how I dress, how I talk, the number of shoes you find at the floor, my visitors excreta excreta. Poking your nose where it ain’t supposed to be never made you get a flu and the ‘mind your own business’ medicine has never come your way. We seem to be bumping into each other at the hymn of ‘think of the devil and they appear.’ I do not know why you can’t see you are unwanted here.
The type of your stature seems to be attracting my hormones to you. Today it’s you, tomorrow it’s another, the day after is another and I wonder how many relatives you got. I try to picture the message you pass across to them “today is your turn, I was there last week, make sure she doesn’t throw you out…” kind of talk. Then they turn up some cute as if to show off they can impress and others untidy as if they slept in a pit on the streets.
In the wake of been unwanted you have become the wanted guest, the guest I seem to be missing and your dilly dally makes me question what takes you so long. How I cuddle your soft skin under my arms when am bored, how playful we may be at times, how you read my mind when I do not want any disturbance and when I hit you hard you make sure not to repeat the mistakes again. My guilty conscience when I’ve had my fill and empty the rest to the bin had been rescued by your tiny hungry stomachs that you licked when gratified. Now your manifestation is deeply encouraged to help me clear my plates. Apparently, mishaps have been happening and the kitty kingdom seems to be taking you one by one as you feed on anything you find without consulting the smell and taste senses.
Adoption has never occurred to me since I turned one of your own into mine. Without any animal contraceptive around it brought to the world so many that our house turned into a cat den. With the boxes I filled up with soil for toilet training, sneaking milk and meat to them was a hustle and I even donated an old blanket to warm them up in the cold seasons. I was such a darling and mind you since I couldn’t keep them all, they were adopted by close friends. When mother cat was on her fourth pregnancy ready to go into labor someone stole her or maybe she died but never heard or saw of her again. Her boyfriend was so depressed that his numerous visits to our house made him thinner and I later discovered he died, so sad.
My neighbors’ cats, my unwanted guests.