My Ugandan Animals!

The day I started work, a stray cat in the area had a litter of kittens inside our compound. The mama cat has mostly disappeared and slowly, each of her baby kittens started slowly...disappearing also. Ugandans absolutely do not keep pets: any animals have a specific function. If a family does keep a dog, the dog is there for security. Cats eat rats and other vermin. Above all, pets are not cute or adorable.  They are useful and quite possibly edible.
My colleagues found my fascination with the kittens endearing and hilarious. As soon as I realized that the kittens were being quietly exterminated, I immediately claimed one as my cat and offered him all the benefits of my protection. First, I gave him a name.
What name do you give to a semi-feral African cat whose life is in constant danger? Easy. Barack Obama.  I have a theory that my colleagues will be less inclined to kill a creature that shares a name with their favorite person/topic of conversation.
Every day at work, I put down my bag, greet my grandmother and then search for the cat. Sometimes he has been locked in a closet or trapped under a piece of wood since the night before, but I can usually locate him by his tiny, pathetic meowing noises. Poor Barack. I feed him scraps from my tea and lunch and he gobbles them enthusiastically while my colleagues laugh helplessly. Imagine! Feeding a cat! Banage.

Yesterday, I was working on my laptop and Barack fell asleep ontop of the charger. My boss walks in. "Ach! Sarah! Your cat is dead!"
"No, Aunt Florence. My cat is sleeping."
"Oh. Too bad!"

Poor cat. I hope that when I leave, they take care of him in honor of me. I don't think this will be the case.


I also sort of acquired a dog during a very bizarre adventure on Monday. I was leaving work a few minutes early to go to Zach's birthday party in Nsendya, a small village up in the hills. My boda driver spoke no English, but I was assured that he knew this village well. We drive for about ten minutes and he drops me off at a farm. My friend Kasozi walks out- Kasozi is an employe of my organization.
"Sarah!" he yells. "Where have you been? I have been waiting!" I apologized, saying I've been at work and I hadn't realized we had an appointment, and where are we?
"We are at my house," he explains. "I need you to baptize my dog."
Um.....okay. Kasozi was so serious about the urgent need for me to baptize his dog that I couldn't even laugh. We walked to the doghouse, where I solemnly christened the dog Michael Jackson and fed him a banana.

Apparently Kasozi knew my boda driver and had asked him to go get me from work because his dog desperately needed to be baptized. Oh well. Crazy boda drivers.

The photo I attached is of Barack sharing my morning tea. There was a time in my life when I would have hesitated to share tea with a feral African kitten.