The Lost Codger

My owner took me to the airport this morning. He got up very early indeed. He said to me that we were going to meet my new owner, who happens to be a lady. I was really excited about this, and so was my owner. If you ask me, I think we’re meeting his girlfriend. I’ve never seen him this happy for a long time. That kind of made me happy too.

At the airport however, he received some awful news. It seemed that my new owner was being held by the people there. Her passport, mobile phone and other belongings were taken from her. All they left her with was just her purse. This made my owner very upset. He couldn’t understand why the people there wouldn’t let her in straight away.

I waited and waited at the arrival halls with him until eventually his mobile phone rang; it was the people who was holding my new owner in custody. My owner wasn’t happy with what they told him. He found the whole thing ridiculous and completely unnecessary. Furthermore, he’s now very concerned about my new owner’s well-being.

She was allowed to call from a public phone from where she was being held. She sounded very very upset on the phone and just wanted to go home. She even had to pay to make the phone call. It doesn’t seem like she was being looked after properly. She’s very tired from the trip, feeling very cold and hungry. They’ve only given her a sandwich to eat. It just broke my owner’s heart to hear that.

My owner then made several calls to the Malaysian High Commission to see if they could help. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to offer any help. It seemed that since the recent raids of two brothels in London and Birmingham, the police have been keeping a close eye on young visitors from Malaysia.

Later that afternoon, my owner received another phone call. They have decided that my new owner was to be sent home that night, and once a decision has been made, it would be final. I don’t know how long we were at the airport. But my owner was not about to give up that easily. He made several more calls until his mobile phone battery ran out. Fortunately, the nice girl at the nearby phone store allowed him to charge his battery there.

Once his battery was half-charged, he went to make further phone calls. He even made a plea to the airport people asking if we could see my new owner just for a while. They simply said no. He even asked if he could just pass some food over to her, and maybe pass me to her as well. They simply refused him.

By this time, it was already dark. My owner seemed tired and exhausted. He hasn’t eaten all day.

He received a call from her, for one last time, before she had to get on the plane home. His eyes were red. His voice was croaky. He kept on saying how he really wanted to meet her and spend time with her, and how sorry he was that things had happened this way. He wished they would have just let him see her, even if it was just for two minutes. She had travelled all this way and they even denied a simple request like that.

I never got to meet my new owner.

And now, my owner and I are back on the tube again.

It’s raining heavily outside.

My owner has been very quiet.

His face looks very sad.

Tears are falling down his cheeks.

I can understand what he must be going through…

* Narrated by Larry The Lion

Or so it seemed, as AF led me to believe.

It was last weekend when AF had the word “pancits” on his Yahoo IM status. I was curious to know the reason behind it and began some idle talk with him. He just got back from a 10km run and we further went on to discuss about the different tints in our sunglasses (to avoid getting caught while oggling at scantily-clad conchitas in the park), when he mentioned that he had a four-day weekend.

I was of course, disgusted by that, since we only had a three-day weekend over here (May Day Bank Holiday). So I asked him what it was for.

“Tuesday is the Royal Cat’s birthday”, he said.

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“Why would I do that?”

Of course, I didn’t believe him straight away. All that fuss over a cat? I mean, I know zilch about Spain but to think the royal family was that obsessed about their cat? You have to admit, it sounds a bit odd. Maybe they’re eccentric; everyone knows Spaniards sleep in the afternoon during weekdays. Perhaps the extra slumber has made them a bit looney.

So I went on with my queries.

“How old is the cat?”

“Quite old. They started it right after the Franco regime.”

“Can it still walk?”

“I’m not sure. But I heard it has leukemia.”

“Cats can get leukemia?”

“Yes. Even cancer.”

“I still can’t believe they have a public holiday in honour of a cat.”

“Why not? In Malaysia we have holidays for farmers.”

“I guess so. Have you seen the cat?”

“No. I’m not that privileged.”

“Do they take it around the city?”

“No. The prince and princess just had a baby so the cat takes a back-seat. It’s probably getting frail. I guess when it dies, the holiday will be changed to commemorate its death.”

“Won’t they just withdraw that day as a holiday?”

“I don’t know. You actually believed what I said?”

“<insert-your-favourite-lengthened-profanity-here>”

I couldn’t believe I fell for that.

*****

It wasn’t long before I saw the status message of Idlan on Yahoo IM. Thinking she shared a similar fate, I went over to let her in on the little prank.

“We’ve been had.”

“Why? What happened?”

“`Coz I also believed there was such a thing as the royal cat’s birthday in Spain.”

“Whaddya mean you ALSO? Ahem, excuse me.”

“Oh, is it just me alone then?”

“<insert-cynical-laughter-from-a-girl-doing-PhD-here>”

My friends can be so cruel at times.

*schniff*