Mixed Drinks

by Meera Kannan

From the time Mixy gave birth, she seemed really aggressive. So much so that she was no more scared of and in fact a threat to the son of the b**ch that hovered around chasing her. Motherly instincts, perhaps. Eddy was there too, fathering the tiny amusement and responsibility, that now lured all, by her low decibel, delicate meows, sheepish sort of smile and tiny stars of hardly-open eyes. With her devoted parents keeping a watchful, protective eye on her 24/7, "Mixed" as we christened her (a sheer non-creative fuse is all we could spare time for; having about 20 odd cats and 30 odd kitties to care for - but hey, don't judge our love for her by that), the drooling son of a b***h was forced to resort to an all-day regime of only eating vegetarian, no-hunting-required food and doggy doggying the other b***ches in the garage. Given that, Mixed is now left loose for the careless learning of life; she now drinks on her own too, cleverly reaching for her kitty bowl.

6S - C3

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