DIARY OF A CAT

10th November, 2011

8:30 a.m.

I know he doesn’t like this place at all, no matter the series of stand-up comedies that stream on daily basis; I know he still doesn’t like this place. Who cares? I love this place with all my heart and soul. Today is a Monday and I love to make use of this moment to relax and relieve myself of all the stress that has been building up in me for days. God knows what I go through in the hands of my enemies. Whenever I tell him I’m stressed-up, Bro. Kelvin will ask me where I get my stress from. Whether my stress is from waking up late in the morning or having a delicious breakfast of roasted mice or stealing his cans of pure evaporated milk and Titus sardines or napping in his seat during his work hours at his work place while he goo dispensing and assessing prescribed treatments. He always tells me he wonders what kind of a human being I would have been if I had been created one. That ironic and sarcastic human being who calls me his pet! The fact that I am a cat does not mean I am a pet. No way! I am also human and deserve to be respected as such. I won’t vent all my anger in this first page of my diary. It won’t prove anything.

I think the proper thing to do now is introduce myself. My name is Ofori.  Kelvin says he gave me a human name because he thought I could be a good companion but he regrets ever doing that because he thinks I am the worse companion he has ever met. I really don’t understand him at all. It’s all about what he thinks. He doesn’t care about my feelings at all. Oh, why? He even said that Garfield is even better than me, which I know is a lie. I am sexier than Garfield ten times. But he says I am fatter. I don’t believe that. I work out three hours every day but I don’t know why I keep on gaining weight. Am I cursed? When I complain about it, Kelvin would accuse me of eating high in cholesterol meals and licking my fur and purr as the only exercise I do. He forgets the hell I go through in the gym. I am only a cat and I DEMAND RESPECT.

Not today! No. I won’t start my diary shedding tears and becoming unnecessarily angry. I will go ahead with what happened today. The name of the human who looks after me is called Kelvin Gyamfi. He is a pharmacist at Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital. This morning he tried to swap places duties with another colleague who had been taken ill. But she faked it. Nobody likes to work at the mad house unit, I mean, the Psychiatric section of the hospital. The capital letters on the door made him shiver. I could sense that anytime he saw those letters:

                                 PYCHIATRIC SECTION HALL 19

                                     THE LORD IS IN CONTROL.

I laughed and said “Surely, the Lord is in control. Say Amen, brother”

He didn’t respond. I knew if he had his way he would smack me. If only the policy of cat protection hadn’t been passed he would have kicked my ass of his face. Thank God for the lives of some veterinarians who have our well-being at heart.

I entered the psychiatric room happily. I couldn’t wait to be entertained by the mad people or properly, mentally challenged. One of them was giving a presidential speech and stammering over the word ‘economy’. Another female was dancing ‘azonto’. It was obvious she had gotten mad just recently since azonto is a current dance move. Another male was just murmuring ‘Juliana… Juliana, my love… Juliana, why?’ Obviously he had gotten a broken-heart after his Juliana had left him for someone else. Do you think it’s only women who go mad over broken heart? Ask this mad man, he will tell you.

Kelvin measured his steps towards the two male guardian/nurses who stood by a short desk. You can imagine why they decided to select men as the nurses. Some of the mad people could get extremely violent and it would take only strong men to stop them.

“Good morning, Sir” one of the nurses said.

“Good morning, Kwame. How is everything?”

“Very well” Kwame answered.

“Joe?”Kelvin called the other nurse, as he attended to a disturbed fellow.

“Yes, Sir” Joe answered and turned towards Kelvin.

“How’s the treatment process of Kate Afriyie?”

Before Kwame could answer I heard Kelvin scream. I turned towards his direction in alarm. Behind him stood a nutcase with a wooden stick in his hand!. Kelvin jolted back, holding his head in pain. I quickly jumped onto a bed where I could have a perfect and clear view of the drama starring a nutcase and my owner. You can imagine the horror on Kelvin’s face. He was shocked. I was happy.

“You stole Juliana from me!” the nutcase shouted accusingly.

Kwame and Joe had him in their grips before he could do more harm to Kelvin, who deserved that spank and more.

“Juliana, oh, Juliana… why, Julie?” the nutcase muttered as they carried him away.

Mr. Kelvin Gyamfi had a bad day but my day was brightened up. He refused to eat his lunch of milk and sandwich. I didn’t have to look pleadingly at him as I normally do for a piece and a drop. I had it all to myself.

What a morning it was.