The Cats in My House
I am not particularly fond of felines. Of any kind. Extremely not fond. What with their shining multicoloured eyes, claws and inquisitive nature? But I have cats in my house. Ones that steal my fish and meat, disturb my sleep at night with their baby-like cries. Sometimes even scratch my door as if I owe them. Now why are they interesting enough to warrant a write up you might be wondering. One fine Saturday ago I tasked my under-exercised body to join some fellows to climb the Aburi mountain on foot. This is a very popular trail for exercise enthusiasts. So you can imagine, how frail and tired and with severe aches all over, my scramble for sustenance when I got home. The lightweight that I’m not, I served myself some mouth-watering rice ball with palmnut soup. I settled behind my table under the big veranda and as soon as my finger dipped into the soup a very fierce meow broke the still expectant air of my throat. Yes, you guessed right, the cats in my ho...