Foreword by Bill Clinton, former President of The United States of America:
It is indeed a great honour for this son of Arkansas to say a few words on the occasion of the publication of MB’s final chapter of the story of the psychic cat called Cat. Why, I was only sayin’ to Monica Gennifer Maria Hillary last night how much the extended Clinton family and all the good folk in the USA have enjoyed MB’s roller coaster ride with Cat over recent weeks. We are truly enthralled with each new chapter, and sit in excited expectation of Nr 3. Bill Clinton can assure y’all that he has not looked forward to a threesome trilogy as much since those high-octane days in the Oval Office. God bless them. Good luck to MB. And God bless America.
MB Replies to the former President of The United States of America:
Why thank you Mr President. It is truly an honour for a humble dirt-kicker from a farm in South West Ireland to receive such kind & gracious words from a world figure of your esteem. You are no doubt tired of hearing Irish people thank you for your efforts with the Irish peace process over the years but let me at least confirm to you Mr President, and you will no doubt be pleased to hear, that many years on we are still truly peaceful and all chilled out. Kudos and big high-five to you Mr President. Truly awesome Mr President. God bless Ireland, Muslim Saudi Arabia and America.
Cat now finds himself in the forested mountains, one hour’s drive from Beijing after an unfortunate accident with an electric forklift some weeks back at DXB airport. Cat doesn’t understand a single word of the local language and has discovered the few local cats he has encountered to be nasty xenophobic sons of bitches. Immigrants in all countries suffer similarly – is Cat’s summation of the ice-cold welcome he has received. And not a word of Arabic between the lot of them. A**holes.
There is a very large wall made from red bricks running across the top of the mountain and Cat has at this stage tired of trying to get to the end of it. The wall does however attract thousands of humans each day who seem to enjoy walking on the top for some God-unknown reason. The humans speak a strange tongue and there is much discarded food to keep a cat called Cat very happy indeed.
But Cat is lonely for home, and the familiar sights, sounds and scents of the Middle East. Especially Russian belly dancers.
The story continues:
There were thirty thousand humans at the wall that day when Cat escaped to the safety of the forest. But only 10-year-old Ling Mi was in the right place at the right time to catch a glimpse of Cat as he bolted into the undergrowth. Ling Mi’s cat had disappeared a year before and had never returned. Grandfather Lu assured Ling Mi he was safe and well in another home in another province with another Ling Mi. Just ran off like cats sometimes do and that was the way of cat life. And the way of cats. Ling Mi was not so sure. Especially when she passed the cat-meat sellers on the street going to and from school each day.
Ling Mi had cried for weeks at her cat-loss of one year earlier but eventually accepted life’s hand of cards. But on seeing Cat, Ling Mi was filled with thoughts of finding a replacement. And why not that cat? though Ling Mi to herself. Why not that cat indeed?
Four weeks later, four weeks of pestering and pleading with her dad Wing Chun to return to the wall, and Wing Chun finally relented. Just to have some peace in his life. Father & daughter arrived at the wall in the early hours. Just when a cat might be walking up and thinking of some breakfast. Wing Chun’s cunning plan worked to perfection and twenty minutes later Ling Mi stood face to face with Cat. Each silently looking at the other. Cat, being a kind cat of good upbringing & manners not wanting to frighten a human non-cat child, and Ling Mi not wanting to scare Cat back into the dense forest.
Ling Mi though to herself that this cat was not at all like old cat. New cat was silent and kind and gently, as she stared deeply into his eyes and he stared right back into hers. Playing the mind-games he had learned from that white guy back in the mall some weeks before. He reminds me of the great leader often mentioned by Grandfather Lu, thought Ling Mi. I think his name was Chairman Meow. And that is exactly what I am going to call you, said Ling Mi as she reached out her hand to the newly Christened Chairman Meow, who was formerly a cat known as Cat in a hotter sandier region. Chairman Meow approached Ling Mi and accepted her outstretched hand. One hour later, only a stone’s throw from the airport he escaped from one month earlier, Chairman Meow sat in the house of Ling Mi. Chairman Meow lapped some Yak milk and purred a deep happy purr.
And that’s when he saw her. Female cat, who lived in the house of Ling Mi’s neighbour, happened to wander in as she sometimes did in hope of some treats for Ling Mi. Pow! Kazam! It was true cat-love at first cat-sight, as Chairman Meow cast a love-struck lost-in-it-all look at the slender oriental feline before his eyes. A complete babe-cat thought Chairman Meow. ‘Salam’ said Chairman Meow. ‘Nee-How’ said Babe Cat. And that is exactly how it started.
The following weeks were spent in fun and frolicking and feasting around the area of the airport as the two cat-lovers lived their fun-filled cat life. Chairman Meow received regular jealous looks from local cats who had tried and failed with Babe Cat in the past. But having Babe Cat in his paws seemed to break the ice with local cats and pretty soon Chairman Meow was invited to boy-cat-nights by the local boy-cats. Life is full of twists and turns for sure though Chairman Meow.
And as suddenly as things went good they went bad. Not again tonight? asked Babe Cat after Chairman Meow informed Babe Cat that another boy-cat-night was taking place down by the front of the TV shop where the boy-cats would watch Barca playing a game.
And then Babe Cat started asking really weird questions. ‘What are you thinking about? Babe Cat would ask. ‘Only you kitten’ Chairman Meow would reply. When in truth the real answer was the incredible goal that Messi had scored the night before. ‘Should I wear this fur or this fur’? Babe Cat would ask before a night out. ‘That one really suits your eyes kitten’ Chairman Meow would say and Babe Cat would reply ‘so you don’t like the other dress Chairman Meow? What’s wrong with it? Chairman Meow would love to have replied that Babe Cat should just print a number on the back of each dress and she could have number X for this season, and number Y for next. Just like Messi. But what man-cat is brave enough to give such an answer? None that Chairman Meow knew for sure. Neither in Arabia nor the Orient. And Chairman Meow just shut his whiskers like man-cats normally do and mumbled some incomprehensible reply that the incomprehensible question deserved.
Two weeks later Chairman Meow had had his fill of the Orient and his fill of Babe Cat. This Cat’s getting out of cat-town thought Chairman Meow. And that very night, as Babe Cat dreamed of gold rings and white dresses and guest lists, Chairman Meow made his way to a pallet in the airport with Arabic writing on the side, knowing well the destination, and where his future lay. Two hours later the plane & pallet departed for DXB airport, Dubai, UAE.
Chairman Meow’s pallet was unloaded from the DHL freight plane, but Chairman Meow stayed well hidden under the pallet covers until it was deposited in the customs warehouse at the airport boundary. Five minutes later, just as darkness was descending, Chairman Meow stole out of the warehouse, through the partially open airport gates as the Indian Security staff stole a tea-break in the adjacent hut. And ran as fast as his cat legs would carry him back onto the sandy streets of Dubai.
About that time MB was nearing the end of a 10K run and was running low on reserves of energy. Out of the semi darkness, without a word of warning, appeared a silent cat with big eyes. MB partially stumbled over the cat, kicking it accidentally in the rear end. The cat hissed an angry hiss and turned to run away. But just as it did so, angry cat turned his head to take a look at stupid white guy who had just kicked him up the cat-ass. And just at that exact split second, MB turned his tired head to take a look at the departing speeding cat. For a mere mili-second their gaze met in the poorly lit street not far from the local airport. At exactly the same time a sense of half recognition crossed the minds of both cat and whitie. And both thought, at exactly the same time, no………….. it couldn’t be him?!
And they lived happily ever after.
Just as MB accidentally kicked Chairman Meow (formerly known as Cat) up the ass, Babe Cat lay on her back in the maternity ward of Oriental General Cat Hospital, and one hour later had given birth to triplets. Babe Cat would later marry a dead-beat local cat who would not treat her well. The triplets were often in trouble with the cat police who blamed poor parenting. Babe Cat never spoke of Chairman Meow to the triplets. Never ever. Some things are best forgotten and it’s best to move on. For better or worse.
Chairman Meow would take four wives over the coming years, as is sometimes the case in the Arab lands. One was good in the kitchen. One was great with the kids. One was superb on social occasions when Chairman Meow mixed in higher society. And Nr 4 was a total and utter babe!
The (real) End. Absolutely.
Ling Mi catches sight of Cat as he escapes to the forest.
This is a photo of a painting of Chairman Mao. It is not a photo of a painting of Chairman Meow.