The mischiefs of Meeko

Having kittens seem to diminish your fear of certain creepy crawlies – certain ones and diminish, not eliminate. For example, I no longer scream at the sight of parktown prawns, I now gently – with the aid of a towel – scoot them outside, I can take a plastic bag and pick up little bits of organs and, twice now, I’ve had to pick up baby birds – their first flights didn’t go too well. As a girl, I am proud to have achieved the point where I no longer screech, jump on to counters and shout for bf to please save me.

Until last night that is.

Around 7-ish I called in the little fur-facies for supper. Tulip came bouncing in like a little squirrel cat – all purrs – Meeko on the other hand has a little game we first have to play. She runs, we chase – until she’s had her little giggles at which point she struts towards the backdoor and in she goes. It’s a fun little game, but not when you have a pile of studying lying on your desk and hopes that you could get to bed by 10pm. Bf wasn't home, so I left her.  

About five minutes later I saw my opportunity to grab her, she was on the grass and clearly preoccupied with something. As I picked her up my arm went across my chest and I felt something incredibly cold and somewhat slimy – not normal. Looking down I noticed a lizard smack on my chest – the stupid thing must’ve been in Meeko’s mouth, which she dropped and it found a landing place on me. I screamed, dropped Meeko – thankfully cats land on their feet – took about three steps back, while waving my arms franticly, and, for good measure, took of my top and threw it aside. All this took about 2.5 seconds. It took my brain about 10 seconds to realise I was standing in the backyard, shirtless.

Clearly my dislike to touch slimy, creepy things remains intact.