The Journey

"Ok, I might have been a bit premature regarding the 'Homecoming'. There was a tiny event in-between. I forgot. On the upside, I have new owners Yeah, I reckon I own them. I see it in their eyes. Two pairs of glazed, gooey messiness. I'll have them wound around the tip of my tail in no-time. On the downside, I've been shoved in a box. It had a few holes, but I could barely see a thing. Then I heard this roar; this awful noise that kept on going. Everything started to shake and move, vibrations coming through the box, and on, into and through, my body. I am, by now, mewing as loudly as a tiny kitten like me, can, 'This is awful, let me out of here!' I can hear the man saying it might be better to take me out of the box. I mew again, in agreement. She then takes me to her lap. I can see trees moving past, in a fast motion. My owners are talking to me, and telling me that I'm in something called a car and we are on our way home. So, the box isn't my home, the car isn't my home. Where's my home?! They are telling me we're on the Centenary Highway. Is this my new home? Hope not. I'd prefer my home to keep still and be less roary. 

Meanwhile the conversation between him and her is a little puzzling. He keeps saying odd words. Haven't worked out what it's about yet. I think he has difficulty forming full sentences. For example, 'Beethoven?' he says. 'No' she replies, 'That's a brilliant composer, and then they named a big slobbering dog after him.'

'Apollo?' comes out from him next, obviously still struggling. 'That's the god of light...Our little kitty is black! No'

'Einstein?'... 'No'.

'Tchaikovsky?'.......'No'.

'Newton....?'

'Neh'. 

Hmm. I'm concerned now. Has she regressed? She can't even string two syllables together now?

'Sweety, this is the Brisbane River.'
Ah, she's talking to me now. I'm relieved coherence has returned to her.

'Shostakovich.....?' he starts again after a moment
'Yeah, like 'Shossy' for short? No.'

'Michelangelo....?'
'No.'
'Shakespeare....?'
'NO.'
'Possum, this is Moggil Road. We're nearly home'.

Shakespeare?' ...'NO'.                                            

Possum?! I'm no possum! Oh man. I'm confused. Who are these people? Did they even get an education? Certainly not in English or Zoology!

'Ok sweety, we're nearly there, but the driveway will be a bit bumpy'. 
BUMPY?! She's kidding me, right? It's an earthquake!
The trees are not just moving past, they are shaking past. 
Hang on, maybe it's us that's doing the shaking. My brain's hurting. This is complicated stuff. 

They explain to me that we live here in a granny-flat, not too big, but that on the weekends we live on a property outside town. Meaning, I'll be doing more journeys like this. Oh, that's just great... But here is the granny-flat. Looks big enough to me. It's bigger than the box, car and my cage at the RSPCA put together. Then there is this wonderful big, soft space. They tell me it's a bed. There is another soft space and this, apparently, is a couch. Not sure of the difference. They've given me some biscuits to eat, and a place to place poo. After a bite, I lay down with the elegant lady on the place called 'bed'. It's where you lay down to sleep or relax. She even put a glass of water next to the bed for me. That's kind.

It's been an eventful day, so it's definitely time for a cat-nap  and a back rub now......"

"......Erm.....I'm waiting.....Back rub?.....Anyone?......Please?!"