So my wandering cat is back, and while I’m relieved, there’s little doubt at this point that he’s playing with me, toying with the situation, making me go more crazy while I lay in my bed alone all these nights and wonder if I will somehow lose the children before morning.
But I am not crazy and I am on to him and I have now had a discussion about it all with our security guard. The guard stands day and night against a mango tree in the playground we built across from our house.
And I’ve asked the guard that he now keep a better eye on the cat while he’s already keeping an eye on the new rabbits (sorry, Liz, the ‘bunnies’).
Guards are common in Uganda because your socks can easily be taken right off your feet when you’re not looking, which is why we have this fellow.
He dresses quite funky with his blue uniform and matching red belt and cap. He’s only about four feet tall, mind you, and has just one arm and, at the moment, a broken leg that really should be properly set.
And, in fact, speaking of thefts, we’ve also chained him to the mango tree.
But he is what he is and he never asks for a raise or anything like that.
Of course, statues tend not to ask for much of anything from their owners, except maybe to be looked at and handled with care and respect.
But in the shadows, he does his job as good as any Ugandan guard that I’ve ever come across. And the kids like him. It’s Day 8 of Single Daddin’ It. I am not going crazy.