Hi people. π
My question for you today is:
What’s your dream holiday?
My answer:
Any of my favourite countries (Sweden, Finland, UK, Ireland, Netherlands, Faroe Islands), or just spent at home with Misha and all my favourite things, going to the beach sometimes.
Yours? π
What’s something you think your parents did well while you were growing up?
My answer:
I think I’ve got a very good example of how to be empathetic and interested in other people from my Mum, and both my parents are always very helpful for people. I also like the fact that my Dad taught me all the capitals of European countries when I was 5. π He also taught me lots of prayers which I just recently realised. You know, if something feels like you’ve known it since forever, it’s hard to realise how you actually learnt it, but recently we had a discussion with Zofijka about how we learnt different things, and I came to the realisation that Dad taught me most of prayers. Since I am a practicing Christian, it’s important to me, and my Dad was very proud of himself when I recently reminded him of that, he didn’t remember it.
How about your parents? π
Last night I was listening to some instrumental piano music on Spotify to put me to sleep, and one of the pieces that it played was that one, by Michaela Wissen. Michaela Wissen is Swedish, but from what I learnt it seems that she now lives in California. She’s also known as Micha Wissen (which she probably pronounces Misha π ), and I don’t know whether she’s really a musician, because what she’s most known for is being a photographer, it looks like she’s fairly popular on Instagram. But she has composed this one piece, and I didn’t find anything else, but I think it sounds very nice. π
What was something your parents said repeatedly when you were growing up?
My answer:
Huh lots of things, especially my Mum, she’s very repetitive at times haha. But like really very often? Hahaha the first thing that comes to my mind right now is that Mum used to say a lot that I’m “wild”, meaning that I don’t engage with people as much as expected. That was always very interesting for me, to think that I’m wild. π
How about your parents?
Would you rather visit Greece or Italy?
My answer:
Greece I think. Just seems a bit more interesting. I love Italian food though, so if it was all about eating, I could go to Italy as well. π
You? π
Have you ever fired a gun?
My answer:
Fortunately for other beings around me, I’ve never comme up with such an idea, nor had a chance to do that, could be quite a disaster. π
How about you? π
If you had to stay in your hometown forever, or leave it forever and never return, which would you choose?
My answer:
I like travelling, despite it being quite anxiety provoking for me for lots of reasons, but I think I appreciate having my own place much more, and I really dislike such major changes, so I think I’d rather stay. I just recently noticed that I’ve started to sort of rebuild my sense of belonging, or maybe build should I say, I’m not sure I have much to rebuild really, and I don’t think that would help me. It would suck not to be able to travel anywhere, but still, I don’t do much of it nowadays anyway so, yeah, guess that would be a bit better.
Which would you choose? π
If you could disinvent one thing, what would it be?
My answer:
School. I’d disinvent it, and then invent it again so that it would have a completely different structure and would stop being brainwashing, as well as, among other things, it would also be optional for parents to send their children to school, home/flexi schooling would be highly encouraged, school would be more of an alternative for those children whose parents can’t or really don’t want to homeschool them, or to gain some additional skills that parents can teach their children but would like them to know, like some stuff that is of a special interest for the child or that they would like to base their career on in future. Schools would also be more of a place where the children could meet and play so that people wouldn’t complain that they don’t grow up together with their peers, and parents would be taught there on how to homeschool their children and just learn about parenting. But in fact I’d rather have someone else do that than do it myself, I don’t fancy dealing with this rotten system. π
How about you? π
What’s your favourite type of sandwich?
My answer:
I like lots of different sandwiches. Sandwiches are a practical thing that you can easily make and eat so I eat them a lot as most people in my part of the world I guess. Just a while ago I had sandwiches with baked ham, my Mum made it, my Mum makes gorgeous baked ham, and I am not a huge enthusiast of meat overall, especially not of ham, especially not the kind you can get in your average shop, ew! I like sandwiches with different types of cheese, with spicy stuff, as well as things like Nutella or honey or peanut butter or some jams, particularly cherry jam, which is weird because normally I hate everything cherry flavoured, apart from cherry jam. I like toasts too, if you count them as sandwiches, especially the way my Dad makes them, loaded with cheese, onion, chilli pepper or kalonji or other hot things, and sometimes some mushrooms and lots of vegs and a bit of bacon. These are his most spectacular tosts. And I like lots of other types of sandwiches.
How about you? π
Hey people! π
Oh God that was such a weird week for me really. Don’t know if I’ll be writing anything about it, it’s very complicated and I’m terribly ambivalent about the whole thing, but if I will, not now I guess, need to think about it. The definitely positive thing is that I got to finally finish my Welsh course for good, and now I’m doing very advanced stuff, or so it feels for me, my brain is all steaming and burning.
So let’s get to our overdue questions of the day.
Are you named after anyone? If you had to choose, who would you be named after in your family?
My answer:
My original (birth) name was after my Mum’s friend, and my aunt –
Mum’s sister, they both had the same name – though if you know me a bit better you know that I changed it, and my middle name Anna is after my Mum, and I’m very happy about it, although that wasn’t very creative because in our area most people have their middles after their parents first names, Zofijka’s middle name is also Anna, I’m curious what would they come up with otherwise. I certainly wouldn’t like Anna to be my first name, it’s so typical and universal and although it’s absolutely beautiful, I just wouldn’t like to be one of millions of ANnas in the world, plus I think that the sort of default nickname in Poland – ANia –
takes away lots of charm from very elegant and sophisticated sounding Anna and makes it shallow, I definitely wouldn’t like to be an Ania, and being an Anna in Poland I would inevitably be called Ania by almost everyone pretty much automatically. If my first name was Anna, I would like to be called just that, Anna, but that would be quite unusual here, where people like to nickname most names, especially if I was a kid, I doubt anyone would call me by my full name. π But I’m digressing horribly hahaha. So yeah, I’m named after my Mum, and I’m OK with it. But if I had to choose another person from my family to be named after, I would go with my grandma – Helena. – I just love this name, and I’d like to be named after her. And I could keep my middle name happily. I could be also Anna Helena, but, as I said, as long as they’d call me Anna, or maybe even (a bit fancifully) with my both names, that would be cool, albeit a little snobbish I guess to always go by Anna Helena. π Not quite normal here.
OK, so how about you? π
Despite having a tween-aged sister who watches unbelievable amounts of both kids and teen shows with catchy earworm tunes, I myself live under the rock and neither of these sound particularly familiar to me. π Nevertheless, the names of the heroines are all very nice, yeah I must say I like all of them to some degree. My most favourite on this list is Luna, I love its cold and smooth sound, and I love the moon so how couldn’t I like this lovely name. Personally I wouldn’t use it, it seems to be more popular for pets than kids over here, and I’ve got a little fed up with hearing it over and over again from my sis who is a die hard fan of the “Soy Luna” series, but despite that, I still love this name. Oona has a lovely, Celtic feel, and Esme is very pretty, even though I dislike the fact that “Twilight” has made it so popular.
Which is your favourite among these? π
OK people so here’s another short story I wrote basing on some writing prompts. Funnily enough, just as my first one, which you can read here,
it also features some yummy food in one of the main roles. As always, sorry about any potential stilistical, grammar or other shortcomings in the quality, I’m only just starting with creative writing in English.
“…95, 96, 97… stupid sheep! Why don’t they do what I want?!” – muttered a 6-year-old girl, tosing and turning in her bed. The girl’s name was Meriel, and her problem was that she couldn’t fall asleep. She was trying to count sheep for the last half an hour or so, but with very poor results. The sleep wouldn’t come, no matter what she did. SHe went to sleep in a very joyful mood, all happy and excited, because the next day she was going to have a birthday. A 7th birthday. Her school friends were invited, lots of fun games were planned, and yummy food was prepared. Only, how can one think of a happy birthday when sleep doesn’t want to come at night? The joyful mood has nearly vanished, and Meriel was growing more and more irritated, and more and more scared every minute. The moon was peeking into her room, and long time has passed since her Mummy kissed her goodnight. Soon after that, she switched off the lights, and Meriel could hear her steps upstairs, and the slight creaking of Mummy’s bed. Meriel knew that she mustn’t wake up Mummy. Mummy was troubled by an ugly monster called Insomnia,
who liked to creep into her brain at nights and make it hard for her to sleep, so that sometimes she couldn’t even sleep at night at all. Even the small white pills that always stood on her bedside table didn’t always help. So when Insomnia wasn’t creeping in her Mummy’s brain, or when the pills were able to scare her away, it was the more important to let Mummy sleep peacefully. That’s what Daddy told her, back when he lived with them. “You are a big girl Meriel, and I know you can understand this” – he said. – And she didn’t want to let him down. She also loved her Mummy, and didn’t want to make her sleepy in the morning. She didn’t know what to think about this Insomnia monster though. She didn’t like her, because she was bad for Mummy, but she also liked her at the same time. Because sometimes, when Insomnia wouldn’t let Mummy sleep, MummyΒ would come to Meriel’s room and lie with her, or would just bustle around in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea, which made Meriel feel safe in her sleep, knowing that no scary monsters will come to her because Mummy will see them first and won’t let them sneak in to her little girl’s room. Sometimes, when Meriel had trouble falling asleep too, Mum would make two big mugs of steaming hot chocolate for both of them, and after that, Meriel was fast asleep, sometimes even before she could brush her teeth and go back to her room and Mummy had to carry her.
But now there were no sounds that could mean that Mummy was still awake, despite Meriel listened really carefully. “Maybe Insomnia didn’t come tonight.” – she thought. – “Good for Mummy. That can’t be nice to have a monster in your head.” And then, a scary thought came to her mind. What if tonight Insomnia decided to visit her – Meriel – instead of her Mummy? Is it her who doesn’t let her sleep? maybe she is right here, in her room? Standing beside her bed? Or maybe she’s already creeped into her brain? “I wonder what she’s like. Is she scary, like a real monster?” – she thought. Dozens of images filled her little head, as she thought what Insomnia might look like, and she barely noticed that it’s making her a little uneasy, more afraid. Just as she thought about that, the window curtain moved slightly. Meriel startled, and could barely stifle a scream. “She’s here! I knew it, she’s here!” – she thought panicked. Regardless of whether insomnia was in her room or not, any chance of sleep was gone now. Meriel hid under the duvet, her imagination flooded with horrifying images that she has just made up.
She spent there a long time, or so it felt for her, until finally she could stick her head out and look around the room. There was no one that she could see. “I should be brave” – she whispered – “That’s what Daddy has always told me. I should try to sleep and tomorrow it’ll be my birthday. I need to sleep.” She tried lying with her eyes closed for a couple more minutes, but sleep didn’t come. She was still too startled. After a while, a thought came to her mind: “If Mummy’s pills scare this monster away, maybe I should take one too?” That seemed like a good idea for Meriel. Very carefully, holding her breath, she sticked out one feet from under the covers, then another, after a while. She put her fuzzy slippers on, slowly got up, and quietly came to the door, peering through. It was dark and quiet everywhere. Only her heart was thumping loudly, and Fluffy – her dog – was snoring lightly on the carpet. Meriel stroked Fluffy’s fur to gain a bit of courage. She didn’t like the dark, and was very afraid of it. As she went through the corridor, the tapping of her little feet seemed loud and eerie in this sleepy house. She almost ran through the flight of stairs leading to her Mummy’s room, trying to be as quiet as possible, stopping in front of the door. She opened them very quietly and peeped in. “Mummy? Are you sleeping?” – she mouthed. There was no answer. Mummy was asleep, all snuggled up warm, and, seeing that, Meriel felt a sting of jealousy. She came closer and listened to Mummy’s silent breath. “Will she be mad at me if I take one pill? Just one? I’m not stealing it, I’ll tell her I took it” – she wondered – “But if insomnia came to me, I need something too to scare her away, I can’t go sleepy on my birthday”. And then, very silently, Meriel reached out for the jar with pills, standing beside her Mummy’s bed. As she did it, Mummy sighed in her sleep, murmured something and turned over. Meriel got startled, again this night. “Oh no, maybe it’s not a good idea, I’ll wake Mummy up” – she thought. And sneaked out of the room quickly.
“So what should I do now?” – Meriel thought, suddenly feeling very lonely and on the verge of tears. “Everyone else is asleep, even Fluffy is sleeping. I want to sleep too!”. she thought about all those steaming mugs of cocoa they’ve drank with Mummy, and how they always made her instantly sleepy. Maybe she should drink cocoa then? The problem was, meriel had no idea how to make cocoa, nor any other hot drink. She was an only child, not a very autonomous one, spoiled thoroughly by her loving, single Mummy, who let her play almost as much as she wanted and didn’t want her to worry about anything, and to whom it has never occurred so far that it could be helpful to teach her daughter some practical skills, so that she could cope on her own in case Mummy wouldn’t be there to help her.
But the next day was Meriel’s birthday, and because of this special occasion, there was plenty of delicious food. Meriel herself wasn’t taking part in the preparations, as she was in school when Mum was making all those yummies, but she knew well all that was there, as it was Meriel herself who made the list of all her favourite things that she wants to be on her birthday party. Another thing that Meriel knew, which would probably surprise her mother, was where all those delicacies were hidden, in hopes that Meriel wouldn’t discover them too quickly. She figured it out much earlier on another occasion, but now seemed to be a good chance to use this secret knowledge. Meriel’s Mummy, unaware of her child’s great detective skills, has always kept everything that she wanted to hide from her daughter – in the basement. –
Meriel didn’t like the basement, it was dark, cold and wet, and she suspected that there might be some mice or perhaps even rats, so even though she knew about this hiding place, she wouldn’t dare go there. But now, as she had already get out of her room at night, and stood there in the dark on the stairs, feeling her mouth watering and her stomach gurgling, she thought that it could be a nice, little nightly adventure, to go down to the basement, and have a little treat before birthday. Mummy surely wouldn’t notice. Nevertheless, she could feel a big, unpleasant knot in her tummy, as she thought about going down there, so before her basement expedition, Meriel popped into her room once again, and took out one of the keepsakes from his Daddy – a small torch which he bought for her for one of their campings, to help her overcome her fear of darkness, as her Daddy was a real enthusiast of travelling, especially all sorts of campings and tentings, and had high hopes that his daughter will one day follow his footsteps. – The torch had been lying uselessly among Meriel’s things for almost a year, and now it was finally its time. As she came back on to the corridor, Fluffy yawned and looked at her, intrigued about what her little mistress is up to so late at night. Meriel felt happier and braver that she’s not alone anymore, and as she went, Fluffy followed her faithfully, as if encouraging this little crime. “At least even if Mummy notices I can say Fluffy ate it” – Meriel chuckled.
She started going down the stairs, down into the darkness. “Hm, maybe I should rather go back? I guess it’s not good what I’m doing. It’s cheating…” – she hesitated, looking down and, again, feeling less confident. “Oh well, but I’m hungry! And I can’t sleep. I have to do something that will help me”. And that explanation seemed to satisfy her, as little Meriel continued walking down the stairs. THe door opened with a creek, that seemed somehow ominous for the little girl’s overactive imagination and uneasy conscience. But she courageously went in, looking for the place where all her birthday food has been hidden. As she examined the contents of all bowls and plates she realised that actually it would be hard for her to eat anything of it not leaving any sign. There were mostly cakes, and Meriel wasn’t the most skiled at cutting yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to cut an even piece of cake, and even if, Mummy would see that something is missing. But then she remembered. There was one dessert that Mummy didn’t do yesterday, because it the best when eaten fresh. Meringue with ice cream! “So there have to be meringues!” – Meriel said to herself. “Fluffy, what do you think, where are they? Will Mummy be mad at me for eating a little piece of meringue?”. The girl imagined that Fluffy shakes her head, and continued rummaging the basement. “Ohh, here they are! Look, Fluffy! Now we’ll have a real feast!” – Meriel took a piece and gave it to Fluffy. Just like Meriel’s Mummy, and Meriel herself, Fluffy was also a real meringue connoisseur, so she appreciated the treat. But Meriel was more hesitant.
She certainly wasn’t an angel and liked to be mischievous and cunning, which both her intellect and fiery temper helped with, making her quite a handful to deal with for her Mummy, but she was at the same time a good-natured child and lying, cheating or stealing wasn’t her natural traits, even if it was just about stealing from her own birthday table. With her kind and honest heart, she would most gladly go back upstairs, woke up Mummy and ask her if she could eat a little meringue, or just anything, but imageries of her Mummy being plagued by Insomnia monster kept her from doing so, as she felt somehow responsible for her mother’s good sleep, and she just wanted to deal with the problem on her own. She took another, very small piece of meringue and held it in her hand. Suddenly, her heart became very heavy and she felt that she doesn’t feel hungry anymore. Maybe she can fall asleep without doing it? Slowly, she raised her hand with the piece of meringue, and licked it. “Mmmmm…” Only that something still wasn’t right. Suddenly, as if driven by some impulse, Meriel quickly put down the piece of meringue on its previous place and went back to the door. Confounded and disappointed Fluffy followed her obediently. “Sorry, Fluff, not this time. I forgot we need to wait for the guests. It’s too early for feasting. And I think meringue tastes so much better with ice cream. On its own it’s too dry for me.”
She left the basement with a sigh of relief so big that she didn’t even feel disappointed that she didn’t get to eat the meringue. Instead of going back to her room though, Meriel again sneaked into her Mum’s bedroom, as silently as she only could. “Maybe if we will be together, we can win over Insomnia” – she thought. – She curled up next to Mummy on her bed, and immediately felt so muchΒ better. Safer. Sleepier. Fluffy curled up under the bed and dozed off right away. The silent, monotonous sounds of Mummy’s and Fluffy’s breaths calmed down the little girl, exhausted after all her late night wanderings. She snuggled up close to her Mummy, and gave out a quiet sigh of satisfaction.
She was satisfied with herself, and knew that she did the right thing. The next time, she told Mummy about her night time struggles, and Mummy was very satisfied too, that she has such a sensible and trustworthy, mature little daughter. And since that night, neither of them has fought Insomnia on her own. They both know that they have each other, and no scary monsters can change it.
What are your feelings/thoughts on butterflies? Do you have a favourite type?
My answer:
Don’t have a favourite type, but I really like butterflies. Can’t exactly pinpoint why, because, well, if you’re blind, you wouldn’t think you can have much to do with butterflies, right? I had butterflies sitting on my hands a few times but you can’t really touch them so that you could get an idea of them as they are so fragile. But I like butterflies. I like the fragility of them, that they are so free and beautiful, and some of their names are cute and beautiful and evocative. Misha also loves butterflies, but his love is a little bit, hm, intricative and sadistic. I also really like the words for butterfly in different languages. I particularly adore the Welsh word pilipala, isn’t it soooo cute? And Swedish fjΓ€ril is very lyrical in my opinion. I also like Polish motyl, though in comparison with fjΓ€ril it sounds a little bland. Even French papillon is very nice, though I’m generally not big on French. But I absolutely hate English word butterfly. When I think of it, I see a big, fat, heavy fly, being trapped in a butter-dish, or some similarly aesthetic imagery. I just don’t know, whoever came up with this word had to lack imagination quite severely. π But that’s all I can say about butterflies.
How about you? π
Hi guys! π
Recently I’ve been trying to find some new and interesting Slavic folk music that I could love, and one of the bands that are among my newest and most liked discoveries iS laboratorium PieΕni. They are from Poland, from GdaΕsk more exactly, and this is a band singing traditional folk music, with a bit of a spiritual feel, mostly from Slavic countries and in Slavic languages, but also Balkanian, Caucasian or Scandinavian. The band consists of all females, and they sing either acapella or with some traditional instruments particularly drums. I find their music really powerful and energetic, and like the connection to nature that is present in it and how full of emotions their music is. The song I want to show you is the first song of theirs that I heard and that have drawn my attention to them, and it’s in Belarussian. I think it’s mesmerising!
Do your pets get along?
My answer:
Well as many of you who’ve been reading my blog for a while probably already figured out, Misha isn’t too easy to get along with and it’s not easy for him to get along with others. And those of you who’ve been around here last autumn are most probably familiar with our other Russian blue cat – Sasha’s – story, and how we failed at having another cat in our family. Now, apart from us humans, the only other company Misha has here are the fishes and he is happy with them and always very interested in watching them, so, yes, I can say he gets along with them. As for their relation to him, I guess you’d have to ask them, I’m not sure what they would say. π And there’s Jocky outside too. They say that cats and dogs don’t get along, and I’m sure there are such cases, but from our experience and from we’ve heard from behaviourists, it would rather seem that a cat will get along better with a dog rather than with a fellow cat. It’s also true that Misha and Jocky see each other maybe once in a couple of days, nevertheless there’s no visible anxiety or lack of confidence on either side at all when they do meet. Misha is very interested in Jocky, you know, in a way that you would be interested in aliens, maybe not someone to hang out with for longer, but interesting to see, observe and make friends with. Jocky on the other hand really wants to play with Misha, but also seems to have some respect for him, which I find a bit amusing. They usually meet though only through the door so there’s no direct physical contact and no playing, they only played with each other once soon after Jocky’s come to us, and ran around the living room like crazy, seemed to have lots of fun, very different from what it was like with Sasha.
How about your pets? π
Hi guys! π
Practically it’s very recently that I’ve learned about this singer, but actually she’s not that unknown and soon after I learned about her I realised that I know one of her songs since many years, and I have really good associations with her. It’s also generally very cool and KT has an interesting voice, so this is my pick for today.
Hi people. π
My question for you today is:
How do you choose names for your pets?
My answer:
Well we certainly don’t have any rules for it, and it’s usually a bit of a dilemma because people always have different opinions on different names of course. Our current pets, excluding the fish, have been named by me. With Misha… hmmmm… well let me think, I don’t even remember how I came up with Misha haha, it’s just so natural, he’s just a Misha ain’t he? He just couldn’t be anything else. π OK I guess it was very spontaneous. I remember that even before we actually had him but knew that we are going to most probably have a Russian blue cat, I thought about him as Misha. My distant aunt to whom we used to sometimes go for holidays when I was a very little kid had two dogs, one was Masha and the other was Misha, and I always got those word obsessions, I still do actually, anyway then when I was there I somehow picked up the word Misha and would go around saying Misha all the time whether it would be with a context or without, though I didn’t really care much about the dog himself. My fascination with the word Misha got even stronger when someone, my uncle I believe, told me that Misha means bear in Russian. I loved bears and teddy bears as a child, and even more so the Polish word for bear, which is miΕ, so pretty similar to Misha. But somehow with time I forgot about those dogs and didn’t hear the word Misha too much so didn’t think much about it either anymore. But when we started thinking about having a Russian blue cat, of course I also thought a lot about a potential name for it and wanted it to be Russian if possible. And naturally the first thing that come to my mind was Misha, and my fascination with the word Misha started all over again but twice as strong. Zofijka liked the idea, and my Mum seemed too, however when Misha finally arrived, it looked like they were rather unsatisfied and inconvinced to the name Misha, my Mum claimed that it sounds infantile and no one will call him so, that we should change it and started coming up with loads of gross ideas, some of which I call Misha now when he’s particularly annoying because no one normal and well-behaved deserves to have such names for real. π But I continued to call him Misha and they somehow seemed to accept it or get used to it, and then there was no other way because Misha started reacting to his name. If I wasn’t so determined, he’ll probably end up as Jaguar, which was his birth name in the breedery, which isn’t bad, but not good either. Misha is indeed a little bit infantile and means a little bear but I like it about it, and at the same time it is also a legit form of Michael and is elegant and sophisticated and masculine, despite ending in -a, which is normally reserved for feminine nouns in Polish, and that internationally Misha is a unisex name. I don’t know how anything can be infantile, masculine and unisex at the same time but I’m probably just strongly biased. π If cats can like or dislike their own names, I suppose Misha likes his, and seems to enjoy hearing words containing the sh or especially -ish-
sound, be it Misha or whatever else, it always draws his attention and he becomes all ears, my Mum noticed it.
And with Jocky it was that his original name was Jacky, and it was the second dog that we’ve had (second in a row) whose name was Jacky when he came to us, which perfectly shows that it is a fairly popular dog name in Poland. While I LOVE Jack, Jacky, Jackie, anything along those lines, as I’m sure I don’t have to repeat ’cause you already know it, I don’t like the fact that Jacky is so popular for dogs, and my Mum doesn’t either. Plus my Dad is Jacek and while Jacek and Jacky don’t have anything in common etymologically, people sometimes call my Dad Jacky or Jack, so… a little awkward it would be. But I felt that at the same time it would be so awful for him to not be Jacky anymore, because it’s really a lovely name. I let them name the first Jacky that came to us and they chose Bobby, and I always regretted that because actually Bobby is not much less popular and recognisable and to me sounds much less charming on a dog. So I suggested Zofijka a compromise that maybe his name could be Jocky, which is actually the same but literally unheard of over here, well I at least don’t know any other dog named Jocky, and I liked the Scottish feel to it. And Zofijka said it sounds even better, Mum also said it’s more zesty and suits him better, and also, as she pointed out, it rhymes with Rocky (as in Rocky Balboa, yes, my Mum openly admits that she really likes Sylvester Stallone), and Rocky is for some reason another crazily common dog name in Poland, God only knows why. So, now we have a completely unheard of hybrid of two painfully overused names, which is quite cool I guess, at least when it comes to naming a dog, not so much, or not always, a baby.
The fishies also have their names, but no one really uses them. Zofijka came up with them, or rather with an idea to call them with names of people in our family.
How about your pets? π
What do you think of clothes on pets?
My answer:
I guess I don’t have any very strong opinion on that. The only one pet that I’ve ever saw wearing clothes was a little dog, a York, he was my teacher’s dog. I never heard about what she did before and at the beginning I felt rather apprehensive to the idea, but in her situation it definitely makes sense and is helpful. She was blind and living on her own in a block of flats, so it would be hard for her to clean up after the dog or control when and where he’d do his business. So she bought pants and nappies for him and just whenever he pooed or peed she. changed him. Well as I said at first it was like a shock for me, like how you can do this for a dog, he must be very uncomfortable, it’s unnatural! And probably it is indeed, and when she stayed at our place for a few days we could see how much better and freer, lighter and cooler he felt without it on himself, as if he immediately got twice as much energy, but also I don’t think it’s a huge harm for him to wear it and, if there’s no other option, that’s really not a bad idea. Also, he looked really cute with those nappies. So, for someone, I have no problem with it, especially if it’s for a reason like that. But if I were to do such thing to my pet… I’m not sure. I certainly wouldn’t dress Misha in clothes, maybe it’s just my impression but looking at him I usually have a feeling that when we decorate him occasionally with something, like with some small ribbons for example, it seems to make him agitated and annoyed. I also really like Misha’s fur, and wouldn’t like it squeezed in between clothes so that I can’t touch it easily, without a good reason for it. If I really wanted to have my own dog, while living on my own, it’s very likely that I would do the same as that lady, simply because I’m blind too and certainly wouldn’t handle the poop otherwise, but then it’s highly unlikely that I would want a dog for myself, especially when living on my own, because I think cats are easier to care for and I just resonate with them a bit better.
What’s your view on this? π
Hi guys. π
Here’s another pet question for you:
Do you think pets can count as children?
My answer:
It only depends on how you feel towards a pet. I must say that before I met Misha, none of our pets felt like this to me, and they were just pets, although for me Misha is definitely my child, or little brother, and I treat him as such. Not because I would like to have children and he’s some sort of a substitute but because I simply feel this way only to him and it comes very naturally to me to think about him as my child since he’s with us. Funny thing that my Mum feels the same about Misha, though not as strongly as me I guess, she often jokes that she wouldn’t think she’d have a little child again, refering to Misha, and she’s actually his primary carer so he treats her like his Mummy in lots of ways.
What do you think and how do you feel about your pet(s)? π
I like Delaney for a girl, and Flynn for both sexes, they are my most favourites out of these.
How about you? Do you like Irish names, or Irish surname names? π
My Inner MishMash 