They came into my life unexpectedly. Totally uninvited,
they found a way to my heart and soul and conquered me.
I surrendered completely.
Sonia on her observation spot.
I was spending my summer at my in-laws’ summer house soaking up the sun and enjoying freedom. One day I noticed something moving under a thick spruce growing behind a row of roses. I came closer and saw the neighbor’s cat with her kittens settled comfortably on the soft grass in the cool shade of the branchy tree. Well, she was so wise! It was a safe, cozy place for her kids, far from noisy people and the madly barking dog. She looked at me smartly and - believe me! – winked at me and smiled before she stretched herself lazily to let her kids reach her breasts, swollen with milk. I winked back at her, promising to keep the secret and backed down.
I'm soooo tired!
Sonia was the last of the litter. She could fit on my palm. Weak, barely seeing, clumsy, she couldn’t thrust her way through the crowd of her siblings to get milk. While the six of them were running playfully on the grass, she was lying on the side or crawling, moaning or meowing quietly. Your heart was breaking when you looked at it, really. What could I do?
Another observation spot.
First she licked the droplets of milk off my fingertips. Then she started drinking , finally, she was able to eat cat’s food. She was getting stronger and stronger. By the time the summer was over she had gained a lot of weight and looked much healthier.
Well, the summer was almost over and coming back to the city was unavoidable, though I wasn’t very willing to do it. I had to change the spacious countryside to a cramped two-room apartment. The cat was the last thing I should bring there. Still, ”when a Cat adopts you there is nothing to be done about it except put up with it until the wind changes”. It was T.S. Eliot who said that and he was definitely much smarter than me. And if even HE couldn’t do anything about it, I felt completely justified.
I'm disarmed! And disarming...
The moment she entered the apartment it was obvious who was the master there. We, of course! And I learned quickly that dogs obey their masters and masters obey their cats… And it’s been like that since then.
She moves like a queen moves. Dignity and grace embodied. If she chooses to sleep in the armchair, there is no way to persuade her into leaving it and letting anybody take the place. It’s her that decides on the time of playing and how long she is going to give us this privilege for. We can stroke her only when she feels like it and if she doesn’t, she expresses her dissatisfaction as directly as possible, leaving red marks on our hands – the sad keepsake of her sharp teeth and claws.
Kacper in my armchair. Well, I had to find another place...
The following year the story repeated itself. This time Kacper turned out to be the weakest of the litter and needed help, so…
Sonia wasn’t very happy about that – after all she had to give a part of her territory to some younger guy that appeared out of nowhere. She had a very hard time in the beginning but well, she had no choice but to accept the reality.
Kacper is different. Ingratiating, looking for our company. At night I can feel him making himself comfortable on my belly, legs or the side, purring softly. Typical male. The leader. The ruler. Always the first to the bowl while Sonia is waiting patiently for her turn.
And this is how all of us live under one roof. I can only quote after the Cheshire Cat from Alice in the Wonderland: "You can't help that. We're all mad here."
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