They call me Monkey. Stupid name for a cat, isn’t it? But the young humans wanted to call me Latifa, which would have been much worse – I’m not a girl, after all, as my new Mom fortunately pointed out.
My new Mom – yes. Because, when I was like eight weeks old, I was left under a big garbage container, in a box. No food, no water – I was sad and desperate. Then two young boys came and saw me. Nice boys, they took me home, only their father had an allergy against cats and they could not keep me. But they told me not to be afraid, put me back in a clean box and carried me away after a nice shower. We crossed a big street and stopped at the door of a small garden. The man there picked me up and I could feel he was used to small cats. I got nice food and a dish of water and lots of cuddles, also from his wife. I was allowed to run everywhere, house and garden.
In the first night, they took me in my box to their room, which has an exit to a small backyard, so I would never need to make a mess inside the house. But it was dark and cold, so I cried a little. I was just a baby, then, you see. Then I felt his big hand coming into my box, closing around me, lifting me up and deposing me – right on my new Mom’s pillow, between her shoulder and her cheek. I cuddled in there, and she welcomed me. Later I learned she had lost her beloved grey cat only weeks before and had been missing her.
Since then, this is my new home. I am much loved and admired, because I am friendly with everyone, and clean and beautiful. When I was told I am a vanalike, I understood that it fits: I like water, I have those tuffs in my ears, and the silky hair.
Here in Amman, Jordan it seems there are some of my kind, but not many. One of them recently turned up here, and boy, didn’t he smell like ... like ... I know him! I did not chase him out of the garden, like I do with other cats. He came in, and as my humans love cats they feed him and let him sleep where he wants. I am only sometimes sad when he occupies my place on Mom’s lap – she is mine! But usually he leaves in the evening, then I am back to being only cat. And it is funny having him around – he looks a lot like me, only the face and the tail are different. He seems a little bit dummy, so the younger humans call him Donkey – not very polite, these juniors, but as long as they let us stay ....
I love having friends, so I enjoy my Twitter-account: @AmmanCat.