Where Kiki lives houses are small and grow slowly, and most of them are not even meant to be finished. Not far away from her world there is a canal and two ominous long smoking things.
Kiki does not remember being invited, but the smell of the neighbour’s ham was in itself an invitation. Kiki jumped to embrace the ham that was hanging in the neighbour’s larder but, while Kiki is usually very discreet when falling, she was betrayed by the ungraceful ham.
Next thing she recalls is being outside the larder, running in the direction of the canal, the neighbour somewhere behind her.
The sight of the huge smoking things coming closer.
The threatening grunts.
The dry noise, the blow, the jump in the water.
Kiki is now paralyzed from the hind quarters. “Maybe next time”, says her owner, “it will be my son or my husband…”
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