Question of the day.

Hi people! 🙂

Do you have any weird animal facts you can share with us?

My answer:

I am certainly not a wealth of knowledge about animals and don’t know how weird this is going to be for people, but recently, in the Polish cat literature anthology I’ve read that I’ve been mentioning a lot, there was a piece about how allegedly all cats sometimes make a sort of half-meow, as if they were about to meow but change their mind in the last second. Apparently the desired effect of it is immediate –
it results in total melting of the human heart. – I found that very interesting because, while obviously I can only hear when Misha’s meowing but can’t see when he’s about to meow but doesn’t actually do it, somehow it seemed questionable to me whether it’s indeed “all” cats who do it, I’ve never heard my family talk about Misha doing things like this, and he really does have a very wide and rich repertoire of manipulative strategies. I asked my Mum the next day and she said no, Misha doesn’t do it, unless involuntarily, like when he’ll yawn at the same time when he wants to meow or he’s been asleep for so long that his larynx has to relearn how to work properly and what it’s actually supposed to do, it’s very funny when Misha is so sleepy and can’t speak yet, or sometimes Misha will meow and sneeze at the same time and that’s really cute. But he never seems to do such things voluntarily and I really don’t get why would this be so particularly heart-melting and neither does my Mum, I mean everything about Misha is cute but I don’t know why this meowing but not meowing would be supposed to be more than anything else. Perhaps he spent too little time with his birth mummy –
Hansa Luft (yep, that’s apparently her name) – and she didn’t have enough time to teach him such sophisticated details, and now Misha has literally no contact with other cats as he seems not to like it at all so he has no way of obtaining such knowledge. So yeah, that’s my weird fact about my apparently weird Misha.

How about you? 🙂

Sława Przybylska – “Kroki Oczekiwane” (Expected Steps).

Hey people!:)

Huh, I’d never ever think that this lady could be featured in my song of the day series, and I think if someone told me that she will, I’d find it very amusing! 😀 Sława Przybylska became popular in late 1950’s and is probably most famous for singing the Polish version of “Where Have All The Flowers Gone?”. At least that’s what I most associate her with. She’s absolutely not my style, I generally am not a fan of Polish retro music, a lot of it feels exalted and overly sentimental to me and I find this annoying, it just doesn’t speak to me. However…

I decided to share this song with you for one very specific and very special reason. The lyrics!

As you may know from one of my latest post, the book I was reading very recently was an anthology of excerpts from literature from across multiple genres, mostly Polish literature, about cats! Some of the texts in there really spoke to me, like an excerpt of “Honorable Cat” by Paul Galico, about a cat who scolds her owner for that despite he can speak multiple human languages, including extincted ones, he doesn’t understand her language. I really regret I can’t find at least a little excerpt of this excerpt somewhere online in the original form so I could share it with you.

Among the things that particularly moved me was a poem, which as it turned out later from a note below was actually a song, and which was written by Kazimierz Szemioth. The author of the anthology – Anna Bańkowska – also mentioned that it was sang by Sława Przybylska. That made me think I’m not going to like the song as much as I did its lyrics,so first I tried to look up if there are some other versions of it that would be more digestible for my brain. But as I couldn’t find anything noteworthy I thought it would be a real shame if I gave up on the original song without listening to it, when it has such beautiful, moving lyrics.

Indeed, the musical arrangement didn’t strike a chord. But still, I think she sings it in a very expressive way and the only problem here is that it’s just not my style. But the more I listen to it, the more I love the lyrics, so finally I thought I’ll share the song, as well as my translation of the lyrics, with you. I’d like to be able to make it sound a bit less raw in English, and it’s certainly not a poem anymore, haha, as I wasn’t even intending it to be, but oh well… I just want you to have a feel of it. Also I must say that since I’ve read this, I am even more glad that Misha is not an outdoor cat and cannot go in and out as he pleases, this has been so for many reasons as you know, but now I’ve realised I’d probably be in at least equal distress than the girl in this poem if I were to wonder where he is and when he’ll come home, every night.

   Can you hear how this clock is chiming?

It’s 8 PM already, and it’s raining so much

And he is not here, no

She is waiting, jumps up at every sound

So empty when he has gone somewhere

And she is feeling so bad

It must be him, oh no, it’s rain

Skeins of clouds in the window

Maybe it’s him? And again it’s not

It was only the whistling of the wind

Maybe it’s him? And again it’s not

It was only the whistling of the wind

 

She has been alone in the world for so long already

Only he wants to stay with her

He doesn’t laugh at tears

So why is she looking at the wet roof?

Shall her dearest come back this way

Like an apparition in strange dreams?

 

Whose steps is she awaiting so much?

Who of us will guess?

Is it true, that he should have come today

Or is he just deceiving her so?

Is it true, that he should have come today

Or is he just deceiving her so?

 

He’s come back, he’s come back, but so pathetically wet

His fur was crinkled, he shivered

And his paws were cold

He’s come back, he’s come back, through the wet, cold roof

And is purring quietly, while she

Has him in her arms again

 

She’s not alone anymore, when he’s asleep here next to her

He will be purring her to sleep until the morning

And here’s the song:

 

Question of the day.

Hi people! 🙂

What is something that is making you feel good, these days? 🙂

My answer:

Misha’s presence is always making me feel good. Right now he’s sleeping on the wardrobe and he has spent almost the entire day with me.

The cooler weather is making me feel good, too. The summer heat has been quite exhausting for me, and for Misha too, also for my Mum and I think for a lot of people as it was really a long time and at times felt insanely hot, and I’m really glad that it’s cooler now, it feels very pleasant outside.

The fact that my Dad’s at work so I don’t have to deal with him for a few days 😀 – he’d had quite long holidays recently and now he’s gone back to work yesterday. It gets unpleasant and stale when you’re spending so much time with someone and you’re not really on the same wavelength at all.

Music. I’ve been listening to lots of great music, but that’s nothing new. Also my great speaker and headphones that I’ve got myself recently and that I use with my iPhone. I really love my computer speakers as well, but, as I always listen to something quietly at night, it wasn’t as much of a pleasure listening to something at night on them, with all the accompanying hum of my desktop computer.

Food always makes me feel good as well. Today we had very yummy chocolate budyń with Mum. Mum makes it on her own, it’s not the instant, shop-bought budyń. I think I’ve explained somewhere on here earlier what budyń is, but if you don’t know, it’s kinda like a creamy Polish pudding. Only Mum put a bit too much chocolate into it, and while it was extremely delicious, it was really, really sweet, and neither of us was able to eat a lot. 😀

Books make me feel good. Right now I’m reading a very amusing Polish book, which is basically an anthology of different texts from mostly Polish literature, but not only, from different time periods and genres, all about cats! I’ve just started it today in the morning but I think it’s going to be very enjoyable for me. And the last book I read was “Harriet and the Cherry Pie” by Clare Compton, a lovely English children’s book, the style and plotline of which reminded me very strongly of Noel Streatfeild, and I like things like these. Since the main character lived in her great aunt’s cafe, there was lots of food involved.

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day (31st August).

Hi people! 🙂

What was the last thing you said out loud?

My answer:

“Miiishaaa!” – I was calling Misha because he was disturbing Mum and being too nosey. He did leave her but decided to go to the living room instead, as we had some refurbishment in there so he’s very interested and spends a lot of time there.

You? 🙂

Breaking the Silence- my short story.

Hey people! 🙂

I was going to write this post a few days earlier, but I was actually writing this story for a loooong time, and then rewriting bits of it, and wondering whether I should actually post it and whether I like it, and then I ended up with a migraine yesterday, so hopefully I can do it today. The title was meant to be only for the draft but I didn’t have a better idea so I left it as it was. I based it on the following prompt from The Goddess Journaling Workbook by Beatrix Minerva Linden:

I welcome new adventures. Imagine the most exciting adventure which could happen to you tomorrow. Write a short story about it. You don’t have to keep things realistic: allow yourself to dream big.

And as you can see, I did allow myself to dream very big. As always, apologies for any linguistic shortcomings and do let me know if you see something about the language that could be improved as I’m not a native and have only wrote a few stories in English so far. Also, a little note to the bit at the end of the story, about the old lady and the “guide cat”. It was inspired by a few stories I’ve heard from different guide dog owners who said that people often talk to their dogs, rather than to them, or believe some strange things like that guide dogs can read traffic signs.

Okay, here goes:

Breaking the Silence

“Oh, wow!” – I exclaimed in my brain, looking at the clock- “4 AM! Is it really?!” For the last six and a half hour, I was writing another chapter of my Jack Hamilton novel, or perhaps I should say saga at this point. I hadn’t touched it for ages, but today I must have caught up on all that time. While writing, I didn’t feel the passing time whatsoever, just like it always was back when I used to write the novel regularly, every single night at school, because when you spend time with someone as interesting as Jack Hamilton, there would be something badly wrong with you if you paid any attention at all to such a trivial thing as time. Now that I stopped writing though, and my brain hit the hard surface of the real world, the tiredness and lack of sleep hit me just as hard. Satisfied with the result of my efforts and with having been able to hang out with Jack for so long, I turned the computer off, put some music on and went to bed. Very unusually, Misha was already waiting for me in his bed, sound asleep. Usually he only comes when I call him, and when I go to sleep this late, it’s rare that he would still be waiting for me. I felt really happy to have him close to me. I laid next to him, and very soon, as for my standards, I followed him to Dreamland.

* * * * *

I was still in a deep sleep, floating from one dream to another, when I heard a very faint sound coming, as it seemed, from the real world. It felt vaguely familiar, and there was something urgent about it, but I was way too sleepy to care, and just ignored it. Admittedly, a part of me was pretty sure that it already must be indecently late for sleep, but really, what’s decency gotta do with sleep at all? I kept on dreaming. After all, you don’t get nice dreams every night, certainly not if you’re me, so why should I give up on cool dreams featuring Jack Hamilton just because there’s something squealing in my room? Or whatever is it doing. After a while though, the sound repeated, pulling me out of my new dream, but still not out of sleep. “Perhaps there’s a baby somewhere” – I thought, and fell in a deep sleep again. – The little sounds repeated more and more frequently, getting louder with each time, now making it impossible to sleep deeply and peacefully, but I was still too sleepy to fully wake up, even though with every such sound, deep down I felt an increasing sense of that I actually should for some reason. After a while they turned into wailing, and became even more annoying. Then the wailing turned into proper crying, and then started to morph into words:

“Pleeeeeaaaaase, wake up, I really, really need to pee.”

and then suddenly my consciousness started working properly. Or semi-properly. It must be Misha. Why didn’t I leave the door opened so that he could get out whenever he’d wake up? How funny that my brain started to make up words to his meowing. While I usually love waking to Misha greeting me with his little sounds and cuddle him before letting him out in the morning, when I have a late night it’s definitely not as pleasant to get out of bed just to open the door for Misha, even if I can go straight back to bed immediately. I sat up slowly and checked the time, while the now very agitated Misha jumped at the door. “What? It can’t be 1 PM already.” – I thought. “Misha wouldn’t be here by now. Sure someone would let him out”. Misha usually wakes up earlier than any of us, so when my Mum doesn’t see him downstairs when she gets up, she often checks whether he is in my room,and sometimes lets him out, because, just like me, she likes very much his presence in the morning, and when he’s not there, it feels very empty. Also she doesn’t understand that a lot of the time I find it very pleasant to be able to see Misha first thing in the morning and that it’s pure pleasure to let him out, because for her it would be a nuisance, so she does it for me as well.

“Hey, Mishmish, what are you still doing here?” – I asked groggily. –

“Hmmm, let’s think… Purrhaps because my so called “mummy” likes her sleep more than me, and no one else can be bothered to open the flipping door?”

I jumped up to the ceiling. What was that?! Have I gone totally mad now? I was frantically trying to come up with an excuse for what has just happened. Maybe Zofijka is in a silly mood and making some weird pranks? Or perhaps seriously I’ve got some bad hallucinations. I was ready to admit there must be something in what people say that I’m too obsessed with Misha.

“Misha?” – this was the only thing I was able to say.

“Misha, Shmisha!”.

I didn’t know what more could I say… Then suddenly my confusion and fear turned into pure amusement. I fell back on the bed heavily and started laughing heartily at myself. OMG, my brain must be really off that I am wide awake and still seriously consider the possibility that my cat can talk. Too much silly playing with Sofi.

“What’s so funny?!” – the little voice grew more annoyed. – Still laughing, I thought that “Actually, what’s so wrong about it? I’ve always talked to Misha so now I should be happy I can also hear him. Who cares if I’m the only one who does? Let’s just go with the flow!”. –

“When you’ll be as old as me, Misha, you’ll notice that most things are funny, even if they aren’t.”

“Deign to remember that I’m already older than you, I’m over 30 in peep years. Now, will you finally let me out so I can go to the loo or should I do it on the carpet?”

“Oh, Misha!!!”

“What, Misha”.

“Have you really been waiting all day long for me to let you out?”

I immediately remembered the time when Sasha was still with us, and when we were going for a day-long pilgrimage. Despite Misha and Sasha weren’t getting along with each other, Mum decided to put the two of them in the cellar with the food, water and litterbox, because Sasha, despite being a very clever kitten overall, had a real problem with peeing in the right place, which, as we later discovered, must have been due to some traumatic experience with Misha. He would do his thing everywhere but not in the litterbox, and had a very strong aversion to it. At least in the cellar there was nothing that could be damaged if he peed or pooped on it. Since Misha needed to do the business somewhere as well, and we had only one litterbox, he had to go in the cellar too. And when we came back from the pilgrimage, there was pee and poop in three different cellars, the litterbox was empty, Sasha was basking in the sun on the windowsill with his paws dirty from the poop, and Misha sitting high up on the wardrobe looking utterly scared. When we let them out and Mum put the litterbox back in place, Misha sprang to the loo immediately and it was clear that he was holding it all day long, so stressed he was. Also when there was a time that no one cleaned his litterbox, instead of doing his thing wherever else, he was holding it until it was clean and he could do it properly.

Poor little thing, I wouldn’t blame him if he just peed on the rug in these circumstances, as he tried his best to wake me up, and normally I wake up fairly quickly when I hear him, as this is almost always the first thing I hear in the morning, but he probably just couldn’t bring himself to do this.

“Oh my, Misha, I’m so sorry…”

I quickly opened the door and he sprang out and flew downstairs with lightning speed.

“Was that why he started talking?” – I thought to myself. – Nonsense! It must have all been in my head. Sometimes, as it seems, hallucinations can be very useful for pet owners. I wonder if parents with babies ever experience the same phenomenon? God knows how long I would sleep if this didn’t happen. Or maybe it’s because of my out-of-whack sleep that I hear cats talking?

The house was empty, except for me and my talking feline, and I was on my way to the kitchen, when I heard a voice from the loo: “Can you please turn the light on? You guys always remember about it when you go to the loo, but you’ll never switch it on fur me.”

“Okay, no problem, if you want… but do you really need it? I mean… I’ve always thought cats can see in the dark?” – I said, switching the light on. –

“Obviously I can see in the dark, but I can also listen to the music, can’t I?”

“Absolutely yes!”

I don’t know if it’s a common practice in other countries, but definitely not here, so I believe you must learn, dear reader, that we are people strange enough to have a radio in the loo, so that it starts playing when you switch on the light.

“Uhhh, you listen to some real shit! Isn’t there any proper music?”

“WHat sort of music do you like to listen to?”

“…A human asked her cat, with whom she has lived fur over four years.” – the excess of pee has definitely made Misha feel very sarcastic. –

“Well you’ve never told me so how should I know?” – I asked, a bit irritated. I never thought my little Misha could be so grumpy.

“You do know! Jazz, classical and baroque. And renaissance music is okay. ANd some of your folk music is decent. And Russian ballads… And relaxing piano music. And Russian drum & bass is my guilty pleasure”.

“Huh, my intuition must be truly outstanding. ANd Zofijka’s.” – I thought. These are the genres we’ve always imagined that Misha likes, including the Russian drum & bass bit. Also because he seems to respond very well to some of these genres, like classical music. I found the station with classical music for him and finally went to the kitchen o get Misha’s favourite sauce, hoping he’ll consider it a good recompense for my previous shortcoming, and that perhaps this way I could persuade him into some more talking. I wondered what I should eat myself, but then noticed a plate of small sandwiches, like the ones my Dad always makes, on the table, with a piece of apple pie and a mug of iced coffee, and thought they must be for me. Yum, how cool that someone thought about me! As I started eating, Misha finally emerged from the loo.

“Enjoy your meal. And thank you fur turning on the radio. You left so quickly that I couldn’t thank you in time.”

“You’re always most welcome, Mishi. Are you always so very polite?”

“Yeah, always when I speak. Even when I’m grumpy at the same time.” – he noticed his bowl with sauce and started eating happily.

“You enjoy your meal too. Why are you talking now? I mean, why didn’t you do it before?”

“This sauce is very yummy, thank you, Mila. I had to wake you up somehow, right? And I really don’t like to pee on the carpets. They’re so unpleasant, at least fur peeing, you can’t even do it discreetly on them. So I had to do something, right? Other peeps left very early and I didn’t want to get up then just yet, but I didn’t think I’d have to be imprisoned in one room for so long”.

“But you speak very well. How do you do it?”

“Duh, all cats can speak! It’s just too much fuss so we normally don’t bother. We’re not made for this. But we’d have to be really stupid if, after living with people for as long as we do, we wouldn’t be able to speak. Especially with me when you talk to me all the time and in so many languages. Can I have some more Mish ice-cream, please?”

“No, you’ve just had a whole bowl.”

“But pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaase. I’m so hungry. And I can speak so well. Shouldn’t I get a proper treat fur that? Some whipped cream or something? I can say please in Swedish. Or in Welsh. Much more than please, actually.”

“Okay, okay, we shall see if there are some more snacks for Misha. But not whipped cream, you’d have to ask Mum for that.” – I squeezed another tube of Mish ice-cream into his bowl, all the while smearing my fingers in it, which prompted Misha to start licking them enthusiastically.

“Thank you, I love Mish ice-cream so much!” – he said, rubbing his head lightly with his paw, as he always does after a delicious meal. –

“I love making you happy.” – I said, smiling at him.

“I love making you happy too, that’s my job, isn’t it”.

“I guess so. I think we bothh live to make each other happy”.

Misha sat still for a while, as if thinking deeply about something.

“I’ll be happy if you let me out now”.

“What?!” – I screamed in shock, much louder than necessary. – “Misha, you are so clever, you can speak and all. So why can’t you understand that you just can’t go out? It’s unsafe for you. You don’t know what it’s like outside. There are a lot of animals and they can do something to you, hurt you or even kill you. Or someone can still you, because you are so beautiful, and people could get a lot of money for you. Or just be happy to have such a beautiful cat for themselves for free. There’s no way I’m letting you out. You could get lost, ran over by a car, you wouldn’t know how to get food, and you’re just not used to living outside. It only looks so nice in theory, but it’s very dangerous for such small, beautiful and unexperienced little Mishas”.

“Is your lecture finally over?” – he sighed theatrically – “I’m sorry but I don’t agree with you. It’s exactly the other way around. I’m so very clever, can speak and all, and therefore I do understand purrfectly well what it’s like outside, even though you never let me out. So it’s not dangerous for me. I know how to stay safe, trust me”.

“No, Misha, there’s no way you’re going to do that!”.

“If you’ll go with me, will you stop panicking?”

“No!!!” – I yelled in frustration – “Why do you have to be so stubborn? I said no, and it means no! It doesn’t change anything if I’ll go with you, because you always do everything to slip out of the leash, even with Mum or Sofi, and I won’t be able to see what you’re doing. You’re not going anywhere and that’s it!” – I was already missing those times when Misha didn’t speak. Now it’ll probably be an endless battle. What a sheer luck that he can’t open doors! Or can he? – “Plus, Misha, I can’t go with you alone because I can’t get around outside by myself, so we’d both be almost equally clueless. You know we have a river on our backyard so we could both end up in there.”

” You’re a liar! You said you want to make me happy but now when I want to do something that makes me happy you won’t let me. I’m not clueless. I could be your guide cat.” – he giggled.

“I would never think you could be so stupid.” – I mumbled, feeling like tossing him inside the wardrobe and not letting out for the next few hours.

“This is very offensive. Mila, why can’t you give me just one chance. One little chance. We’ll just go out for a little while. I’ll be really careful. I won’t slip out of the leash, if you won’t keep it too tight, and I’ll make sure we don’t fall into the river or anywhere else. And I won’t run away and we’ll come back home soon. We’ll just go for a little walk. Wouldn’t you like to go for a walk with your little Misha. If you really want, we can stay here in the backyard or in the garden, but we could also go out on the streets, why not? I know how to deal with cars. Please, Mila, give me just one chance”.

“You had many chances before, don’t you remember? We let you out but you’d always try to run away or cry all the time that you want out again”.

“I won’t cry at all after we go this time, I promise. I really, really promise. You wouldn’t want to bet with me, because I will win it and you’ll have to get me 50 litres of whipped cream.” – his typical Russian blue smile widened. –

“I’m not going to bet with you, nor am I going anywhere with you. You’re crazy”.

“Okay, suit yourself. I just wanted to be nice. But if you don’t want to be nice, I’ll just go on my own and I’ll come back when I want.” – and with this, he ran to the door and was just about to jump on the handle.

“No!!!” – I shrieked, and ran after him, took him in my arms and shook firmly a few times, which he definitely didn’t like.

“So what?” – he asked, when I finally put him on the floor. – “Are you going with me or not?”.

“I guess I have no choice, but be sure that this is the last walk in your whole life.”

“Yaaaay! Thank you, Mila! I knew you’re cooler than that. You’ll see it’ll be a lot of fun” –

I was full of doubts, but I got out Misha’s leash and out we went. Jocky went all bonkers seeing Misha, and Misha did let him jump all over him for a while, but after some time his patience was exhausted and he nudged him gently but firmly away with his paw.

“Excuse me, sir Jocky. I like you a lot, but I have more important things on my mind at this moment. WHere shall we go, Mila?”

“Dunno, it’s your freaking trip, you say.” – I said, feeling sort of as if I suddenly found myself right in the middle of some strange fairytale world a la Alice in WOnderland.

– “We’ll hang around here for a while, then” – said Misha confidently.

I had to admit it to him that so far he indeed was very well-mannered, didn’t ran out frenziedly or stand in one place full of fear as he usually did when we let him out, didn’t try to slip out of the leash and kept close to me, moreover, if there has ever been something like a guide cat, I believe he could be viewed as an example for what a guide cat should be and how it should behave, and, although I have no personal experience with guide dogs, dare I say he exceeded even them, as I didn’t have to give him any commands, and of course he was also able to talk. Though on the other hand I’m not sure if a manipulative cat who does exactly what he wants no matter what it takes could be the kind of a service animal most people would want.

Finally, we came to the garden and Misha decided we’ll spend some time here.

“We’ll just lie down on this purrfectly fresh grass, I’ll have some of it as I’m sure it’s great fur getting rid of hairballs, and we’ll have a cuddle, just as you always like. Doesn’t that sound nice? I won’t run away I promise.”

And so we did. Misha enjoyed the fresh grass and rolled around in it and nibbled on it. When he had enough grass in his tummy, and decided that he smells grassy enough, we just laid next to each other in silence, Misha taking in all the new smells, and I wondering about the whole surreal situation I’ve found myself in, and how long it will take me to go completely crazy.

“If you can jump on handles and go out whenever you want, why didn’t you do that earlier, for example when you wanted to the toilet today?” – I asked after a while.

“Cats never do such spectacular things when there’s no absolutely urgent need. And besides, I cannot jump on handles. You guys weren’t kind enough to put your handles low enough fur me to reach, nor was anyone willing to teach me how to open the door, I’m not THAT clever. I only wanted to scare you so that you’d go with me.”

– “You bloody manipulator!” – was the only thing I was able to say.

“Why do you insult me?” – he asked in a calm, innocent voice. – “I only wanted to have an adventure”. But never mind, I’ll furgive you. Oh look, there’s a butterfly, yay! I’ll catch it fur ya! What a beautiful butterfly!”

“No, Misha, leave it alone!”

“But why? It’s the last walk in my life and I’ve never propurly caught a mouse or a bird or an insect. DO you want me to feel like a total failure in life? That certainly won’t make me feel happy.”

Misha caught the butterfly in a matter of seconds, all the while making sweet, little feline sounds, as he always does when “playing” with little animals.

“Here’s my gift fur you, Mila. A very beautiful butterfly. I killed it myself.”

“Am I supposed to eat it or what?” – I asked, the surreal, grotesque feeling growing with every minute.

“Oh, you can’t even appreciate a heartfelt gift. I’ll eat it then.”

“Let’s hit the streets now. I need to get some new snacks for myself.” – he said after his little brunch.

I think I felt too dazed to refuse him any longer, or too exhausted by all the events of this short day, but whatever the reason, I followed him. We went out the gate and on the streets. Misha truly amazed me with his ability to navigate in the town, even as little as ours, with not very much traffic.

“Do you purrhaps know if there are any pet shops in the area?” – he asked.

“Yeah, there is one.” – I gave him the street. – “It’s quite close to us, but I don’t know where exactly, you’d have to figure that out for yourself somehow”.

“Okay, no worries, I will. Misha Hhrrru? can deal with any situation like a pro.”

“Excuse me, ma’am. – a well-dressed, tall, elderly lady with a grotesquely big hat and very-high-heel shoes, was passing us, and as it seemed, Misha decided to ask her about the pet shop. I froze. What will she think? Will she actually hear him?

The woman gasped, her eyes widening in horror, and pressed her hand to the chest.

“Jesus! Someone help me! A cat… a cat… This cat can speak…”

“Yes, you’re right, I’m a cat. My name is Misha. Nice to meet you. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m a nice and friendly kitty, I like people. I understand you, because I used to be afraid of everything too. Only today I decided not to be. Now I’m not afraid of anything. What do you need help with.”

“H…h…heeeelp! I think I’m going mad. And my heart… my heart… – she whizzed –

“Oh no, what’s wrong with your heart. Mila says I can heal people. I can’t promise anything, but purrhaps I can heal you…?” – but before Misha could end his friendly monologue, I dragged him in the opposite direction and we ran away, as quickly as possible. Misha realised it’s indeed not safe for him to stay there, as more and more people were gathering around the woman, looking at her and at us. Seeing us running away though, the woman suddenly regained some of her vital energy and started yelling:

“It’s hers!!! It’s this girl’s cat! THey’re running! Someone catch them! She’s making pranks on poor, elderly people!” –

“Come on” – I heard a little voice behind me – “I live right here, come with me, quick.” – a little girl, perhaps 9- or 10-year-old, was smiling at us.

We ran after her into her gate, which she closed behind us. We all sat at the stairs of her house. She giggled.

“Your cat is beautiful. How did you make that old bag believe he can speak?”

” Thank you for saying I’m beautiful. I can speak, every cat can.”

“Hahaha, that was really funny. How can I also make my cat speak?”

“You can’t make him. He must want himself. I am Misha, nice to meet you.”

“No, but seriously. How did you make your cat speak?”

“Seriously, I didn’t make him. He can speak for himself. He started today.”

She thought for a minute.

“Really? This is strange. But I want to believe it’s true so I guess I will.”

Soon, a man came out of the house.

“Nela? What have you been doing there for so long?” – he came closer – “Oh, good morning.” – he said to me – “What a beautiful cat. I am Nela’s dad.”

“I’m Emilia, and this is Misha”. – I said, nudging Misha to tell him not to say anything, which he understood. I really wasn’t up to another conversation about how I make my cat speak.

“Please do come in. Nela, you should have invited your guests inside.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I think we have to go now.” – I said – “Misha only came to visit Nela for a moment.”

“Well, okay then. But I hope you visit us some time soon in the future again.” – said Nela’s dad, visibly surprised that we weren’t going to stay for longer.

“What a pity you can’t stay for a while” – said Nela when her father disappeared into the house. – “I really love Misha. And perhaps my cat would learn to speak from him. I think it’s safe now so you can go”.

“Oh but wait!” – Misha called when Nela was about to go inside her house. – “I have a very important question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you know where is the nearest pet shop?”

“Emm… not really… I’ve been there once with my parents but I don’t know where exactly it is. But I can ask dad.”

“Oh no, there’s no need for that” – I said –

We said goodbye quickly and went in search of the pet shop. Misha decided to go back to the same street, as he was sure the fuss was already over. Nela had hid us very successfully, and it seemed like no one cared overly about the old lady’s revelations about a talking cat, perhaps apart fromm a bunch of people who could hear Misha for themselves. The street was actually empty. Or so we thought, until, seemingly out of nowhere, the old lady appeared in front of us.

“Oh yes, I knew you’d be back, scaring to death innocent, dignified older people and making fun of them with your possessed cat.” – she said to me.

“I’m not…” – Misha tried to defend himself, but I tightened the leash on him hard enough that he knew he has to stay quiet.

“I’m sorry if my cat scared you. I’m sure he didn’t mean to”.

“You are sorry! My only hope is that you will not do it ever again!”

“No, of course I won’t. We weren’t making fun of anyone. My cat can speak, but he’s not possessed or anything, and he’s not bad to people”.

“Of course he can’t speak, and if he can, there must be something wrong with him. Cats do not speak”.

“But I’m a guide cat!” – Misha couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“What?!” – the old lady raised her eyebrows.

“I’m her guide cat.” – Misha repeated. – “You know about guide dogs, don’t you? How they help blind people to get around?”

“Oh yes, I know. My friend’s ex-colleague’s daughter’s daughter is blind and has a guide dog, and I watched a documentary about blind people years ago.” – she said, apparently forgetting she was talking to a cat –

“So I’m like a guide dog, only I’m a cat.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there were guide cats!”

“So, you see now, ma’am, don’t you, that I have to be able to speak. I have to tell her that it’s safe to cross the street, or ask people for directions when even I don’t know where to go.”

“Oh yes, now it’s a completely different matter. I’m sorry I was so unpleasant, poor girl, I didn’t know she was blind, God bless her.”

And with that, along with a dozen others maudlin comments like this, she wanted to leave, but Misha stopped her:

“Excuse me, ma’am, I have a very important question. Do you know where is the nearest pet shop? Even a guide cat deserves a treat once in a while, right?”.

“Oh yes, I know. Turn left, then right, and then left on the crossing, and you’ll see the pet shop first thing on your right.”

“Thank you.”

When we were sure she has left, we started laughing our guts out.

“Misha, you’re a genius!” – I uttered, when I finally was able to speak. –

“Thank you, Mila, but I already knew that. Honestly I didn’t expect her to be this naive. Now, let’s finally go to that pet shop, I’m really tired of all that peopling.”

* * * * *

“Bibiel!!! Biiiiiibieeeeeeeel!” – Sofi yelled so loud that she would wake up all the dead people on the cemetery.

“What do you want?” – I asked sleepily.

“Wake up. You’re sleeping and sleeping and sleeping. It’s 2 PM. Mum told me to wake you up and ask if you want to go with us to the beach.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Misha sneaked in quietly and rubbed his head on my hand in a playful way. The memories of the last hour floated back into my brain. So it was only a dream… or was it?

Question of the day.

Hi guys! 🙂

Which pet made the most impact on your life?

My answer:

That surely has to be Misha. My family used to live in the country throughout my whole childhood, so whenever I was at home I was surrounded by animals, we’d always had a dog there and lots of cats around the backyard, some more, some less wild, and we’ve had aquarium fish since I can remember, and I also had a hamster for a brief moment, and when I was a bit older we also had a cat called Kiki. And now, except for Misha, we also have our dog Jocky. But I’ve never bonded with any animal as much as with Misha. That’s probably partly because I am not as much a dog person as I am a cat person, which isn’t to say I don’t like dogs, I do like most if they’re not overly intrusive and exuberant towards me when barely knowing me, but I just get along better with cats. And partly it’s also probably because I simply didn’t really spend that much time with those pets, as I was at the boarding school most of the time. I even hardly remember our cat Kiki, even though it wasn’t that very long ago that he was with us, I didn’t feel particularly emotional about him, even though i liked him. The only bit I remember more vividly is when I accidentally closed him on the terrace in the middle of a snowy, windy, winter night, and no one in the family could figure out how he managed to not only get on the terrace but also close himself there – long story and i’m pretty sure I’ve talked about it in some earlier post. – Also as I’ve said many times before, we are really very much like brainmates with Misha, and even though one may easily think that in some respects we are a really badly and absurdly paired couple, at the same time we have an awful load of things in common so we can simply get along somehow, I like to think that we do really well, even though it’s hard sometimes even just because you can get most information from him via eye contact and he’s extremely hypersensitive to touch. Misha has been a huge emotional support for me, which I can’t say at all about other pets that we’ve had, and I have a personal relationship with him, which I also didn’t have with the other ones and don’t really have a very strong one with Jocky even though I like him and he seems to like me crazily for some reason and we like to play.

You? 🙂

Happy Easter, pets and peeps!

Hhrrru? 😻

This is Misha. I am soon going to sleep because all my peeps are soon going to sleep, but before I do that I wanted to wish all of you, on behalf of the Emisha team – that is Mila and me – a very happy happy happy Easter. I hope it will be a very joyful time for you if you are Christians and if you are not and are just celebrating for the fun of celebrating something I hope you will be able to have as much chocolate as you can keep in. And if you are not celebrating I hope you have a lovely, beautiful Sunday and won’t be stressing too much about that human plague thing. If you are a pet like me I hope it will also be as happy day for you as it’s going to be for me and that your peeps will stay at home even though it is a holiday and spend some more time with you, but hopefully they won’t be too noisy and intrusive and will let you have a bit of time for yourself too. Happy Easter to all our readers. 😻

Emisha 💜 💚 💙

Misha’s belated Thankful Thursday.

Hhrrru?! 😻

How are you doing pets and peeps? This is Misha, of course, and I haven’t posted anything in a loooong time! Mila usually only allows me to write my usual posts, or “The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru?” stories but today she let me take part in a blog link-upcalled

Thankful Thursday

and this is a lot of fun so I’m very happy!

What I’m most thankful for, this week?

Guess what, I know i’m probably going to sound very ignorant, but I don’t care. I know that there is that COVID-19 thing going on for humans, but I don’t really know what it is other than it freaks people out and is somewhat dangerous and that because of it, my peeps are at home way more than they usually are, even though they don’t freak out about it at all. Usually, Mila is most of the time with me, but now all of the peeps are in, and I am so happy about it. I’m not freaking out about this COVID thing. Do you think I should? If it makes my peeps like staying at home more, I’m thankful to it and for it. I only know a little piece of the world but know enough about the world to understand that many things have both good and bad sides to it, and I hope my peeps can skip the bad stuff. I think it must be awful if they talk about it so much in the telly and radio so I don’t want my peeps to have to get through it. I would like to be able to help so they would stop calling me selfish.

Also, there is another benefit for me from COVID-19. Lots and lots of food! Earlier this week, Mum went out and came back with like a dozen of tins with my favourite food and a lot of Mish ice-cream as well! So I have a huge supply of good food. What can be more comforting in tough times?

ANother good thing is that because of the COVID-19, no one is allowed to come to us either. And I am so happy about it, because, as you may know, I really dislike most strangers, unless they are nice and quiet and sound and smell nice. But most people don’t, so in general I only like my peeps and maybe a few others of those I know. It’s so disturbing when you wake up from a nice nap, go down to the kitchen to have a dinner and suddenly you realise that there’s a stranger in there. Some don’t care for me at all and some get offended if I don’t come to them if they call me. They don’t understand that my name is Misha, not Kitty or Pussycat, so I only come when someone calls Mish Mish Mish, and when I feel like it.

So, in short, I’m thankful for the good stuff about COVID. What are some good things that come from it for you that you are thankful for, pets and peeps? Does it scare you and what about it scares you the most? What else are you thankful for?

Mishpurs.

Misha 💜 💚 💙

Question of the day (21st March).

When was the last time it was your fault?

My answer:

Today morning. I was feeding Misha who had just come in to visit me, and I really wanted to show him how I’ve made his bed even more comfy and get his feedback. I picked him up quickly just when I noticed that he emptied his bowl, and wanted to show him his comfy bed, but as soon as I picked him up he started to choke. I am still not perfectly sure what’s the reason but that happens to Misha a lot. Mum says that Misha might have something wrong with his throat/larynx because he also purrs very very ultra-quietly all the time, even his loudest purrs are almost only palpable rather than audible, but I think it is because of the way he eats, he tends to eat very quickly and kind of anxiously, as if he was scared that someone is going to take his food away before he can eat it or that he must run away very quickly because someone is lurking and waiting to swallow him whole or I don’t know what he thinks, but that’s how it looks. A while ago, he was eating in the kitchen and Mum was sitting there too, and then she sneezed, and Misha ran away instantly, knocking his bowl over. His brain is in alarm mode most of the time as it seems. Nothing serious has ever happened because of that choking, but it is often and always freaks me out as I am a very overprotective mummy. But today it was definitely not the problem with Misha’s larynx or anxiety, because I picked him up too quickly and he didn’t manage to swallow the rest of his food, and I didn’t know that he was still eating. Additionally I think that must have also startled him, and hence the drama. It wasn’t very bad but it was really scary for me especially that I was home alone, the only other human being in the house was Olek who was sleeping, and my practical idea about veterinary first aid is incredibly poor so I couldn’t be very helpful in case he coked really badly, but we managed and it was okay.

You? 🙂

The sounds of animals. #SOCS

It’s Monday but I thought it would be fun to join in with

Stream Of Consciousness Saturday

today anyway. Last Saturday, Linda’s prompt for us was to write about the sounds that animals make and how we experience them.

Well, quite obviously I think, the first thing that comes to my mind when thinking of the sounds of animals in general, are feline sounds, more exactly the sounds that Misha makes. I find them soooooo soothing and relaxing. It’s pure bliss to me to be very close to Misha so that I can hear all the sounds of his. I generally love to hear cats purring (who doesn’t?), it’s a cute sound, but Misha’s purr is special. Not only because Misha is mine and I love Misha, but also because Misha’s purr is very quiet. An average cat will start purring before you even stroke him, and so loudly that sometimes even people on the other side of the room or even next door can hear it. Cats are very generous in that respect. Well, not Misha. His purrs are for VIP’s only, and even more often, he purrs just for himself. As you probably know if you’ve been around here for a while and read some of my posts about Misha or Misha’s posts, Misha is very fearful, rather solitary and not particularly vocal. It’s not like he’s selfish, like a lot of people think. He does want closeness, and cuddles and all that, but, first, it has to be on his conditions – when and where and how long he wants – and second, he is also afraid of touch and sudden movement and often it is very difficult for him to overcome this fear, though there are better days and worse, I’m not entirely sure what exactly it depends on, but probably just like with us humans – sometimes we’re cheerful, sometimes we’re sad, sometimes we’re anxious, sometimes we want to be alone, and sometimes with others, and sometimes we want to have fun and play. – Anyway, all those traits of Misha probably contribute to the fact that his purrs are usually very, very quiet. Like, most of the time you’d have to literally put your ear very near him to hear it, so usually you are more likely to feel his purr and the vibrations in his throat, rather than hear it. My Mum claims that Misha must have something wrong with his throat or larynx because it is not normal, and I’ve always thought it’s just the way he is and has nothing to do with his larynx. However, recently I’ve been thinking more about it because I’ve noticed that Misha frequently chokes a bit when eating. Not very badly, just a little bit. I suppose it’s not something new but just something that I hadn’t noticed previously. So that could be either through some larynx issues indeed, or perhaps because Misha tends to eat very quickly and a bit as if he supposed that someone is going to take the food away from him any time suddenly or do something scary so that he’ll have to run away immediately. Really sometimes you could think he’s got some bad trauma like a lot of shelter cats do.

We humans often think that when a cat purrs, it must be happy and content. Well, I’m no expert at felines, though I have observed Misha and read a lot about cats and their behaviour, and specifically purring, and it seems to be a myth. I think I’ve written on that previously, but I’ll say that here too. Cats can also purr when feeling anxious, or in pain, to soothe themselves in a variety of situations, and probably in several other instances which I don’t remember. The anxious bit is certainly true for Misha! I’ve often heard, or felt, that he purrs when he’s afraid or just tense and nervous. As I said, he frequently purrs just for himself, for example in his bed, before falling asleep, when no one is petting him or paying particularly much attention to him. I always find it so cute, it’s like a child would sing himself to sleep. I think it soothes him.

Apart from purring, cats of course make a lot of other noises. Misha hasn’t spoilt us with a particularly wide range of them, but he’s definitely capable of it, just chooses not to do it very frequently. He can be just as expressive with all the “hhrrru’s?” and meows he makes as we can be with our languages and tones of voice, which makes him an excellent manipulator! Some of his sounds alone will break your heart and fill you with overwhelming sadness, others will make you annoyed and irritated at him even though he didn’t do anything other than meow or hhrrru? because it sounds like he’s screaming at you, others will make you feel lighter and happier and like it’s going to be a very beautiful day, and some will make you rush for Mish ice-cream and sausages urgently on autopilot. There are also such that will let you know that poo is on its way (when Misha is for example closed somewhere and can’t go to the loo) or that he’s going to vomit (this is probably the only Mish sound I really dislike, or that sun is shining so beautifully that Mishka would like to go out just for a little while, or that the fun has gone one step too far and Misha has transformed into a real predator.

When Misha sleeps in my room and doesn’t feel too anxious, I love to sit or lay very close to him, and listen to his purr, breath, heartbeat and his tummy gurgles. It’s better than any kind of music or relaxing sounds we could ever create! Especially Misha’s breath is something I love, and, again, it’s not always easy to hear well even when you’re relatively close. A lot of the time, especially when he isn’t purring, his breath is very similar to that of a baby.

Another Mish sound I truly love is the sound of little Mish paws on a carpet when he’s running or walking quickly, it’s a very quiet sound but so delightful.

There are sounds that cats make though that I am not a big fan of, especially when it comes to wild cats. When I was a small child and lived in the country, we had lots of wild cats on our backyard. Some got used to people and were very cuddly, others not, but they were both fighting and copulating frequently at nights, and I hated hearing that. It was scary! Especially when I was very small and had no idea what those sounds were! Just imagine it – everyone’s asleep, you’re in bed and suddenly you hear moaning and howling and lots of other creepy sounds, as if some haunted or long condemned individuals were wandering around out there. – 😀 My sensory anxiety always gets way more nasty when I don’t know the source of a sound, which I guess is not particularly strange as we’re always more likely to be scared of unknown stimuli especially when our brains are going to see them as a danger anyway. Now that I know what sounds cats make sometimes, they no longer provoke my sensory anxiety even if they are a little creepy sometimes. Here we also have a lot of wild cats, though Jocky keeps them at a distance most of the time. When we didn’t have Jocky though, there were loads of them and they made lots of noise as well, but that sounded more like extremely distressed babies crying or shrieking. 😀

We also had a fox farm in the neighbourhood for a while which was awful. My Mum has extremely sensitive sense of smell – she says she could work as a police dog 😀 – and it was always particularly unpleasant for her when the stinky smell of foxes would fill the air after the rain for example. What I hated the most though, were the sounds they were making sometimes. Before we moved here, I had no idea what sounds, if any, foxes could make, and the first time I heard that was very unpleasant. Not only because their barking is really unpleasant I think rather objectively, but also because… if any of you had read my short story about sleep paralysis called

“Help!”

, then perhaps you remember the guy called Ian, who was the main character’s sleep abuser. Well, for some reason, my “Ian” sometimes makes eerily similar sounds, and has had since I know him, that is since pretty much forever, dunno, maybe he has some fox relatives or whatever. So you can imagine that it scared me out of my pants.

Which animals sounds do you like or find soothing? Are there any that you particularly dislike? 🙂

 

Misha: my purrfect birthday.

Hhrrru? to all pets and peeps! 😻

This is Misha! How are you doing? What has happened in your life recently? Have you had anything very yummy to eat? I haven’t posted here in ages! Technology is stupid sometimes. There won’t be a new episode of The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru? today, I’d just like to ramble a bit.

It was my birthday last week, on January 30. I’m four now. It’s like 32 in human years, but my peeps still treat me like a little baby. It’s both cool and annoying. Sometimes you’d like just to be taken seriously and not like you’re a total idiot who doesn’t understand normal language and everything must be explained to him, and sometimes it’s not even worth it to explain anything because he has water instead of brain so whatever you’ll say will leak out anyway. Sometimes I’d much prefer if they considered that maybe I am not just a charming little thing but that I can also think and they can talk to me normally even though I am smaller than them, and that I also have my own opinions on things. They are incredibly bossy because for them, you can only be considered smart or clever when you do what they want from you. If you don’t, they will think you don’t understand anything and are stupid. While I think it’s the other way around. You’re clever when you have enough free will to be able to do what you want to do yourself and come up with fun things you want to do. Even when someone tells you what to do, it is you who decides whether you will do it or not, how, and when. Jocky is much more clever in their opinion than I am, but I think he’s just brainwashed. I think they also think that I’m stupid and childish because I am so small. I would like to be bigger and fatter. I like being a Russian blue, but sometimes I think I’d like to be a Maine coon more! My peeps are crazy about Maine coons, so much so that I wondeer why they chose to have a small Russian blue cat rather thann a Maine coon. Maine coons are so big, I’m sure they must always be treated seriously by peeps and are always noticed when they want to be. I’d like to be so big. But there are advantages to being a little baby as well. Everyone cares for me and I have lots of beds where I can sleep when I feel sleepy, and everyone wants to make sure I feel well.

I’ve got lots of my favourite sauce on my birthday, and sausages too! Peeps say they stink, but I love their smell so much that I’d do anything for one!

I’ve always wanted to take part in some blog challenges or prompts or other such things, like some other pets in the blogosphere do, but Mila never let me. Well, today, finally I can do that because it was my birthday! Funnily, right on the day of my birthday, Carol Anne of

Therapy Bits

posted a question in her series Carol Anne asks that seemed especially for me.

What’s your ideal way to celebrate your birthday?

My purrfect birthday! That got me thinking!

First, I’d like to go out. Even for a minute, but to go out on my own, not on the leash but just on my own. I’d like some snow, so that I could look at it and maybe roll in it a little but not too much of it so it wouldn’t feel too cold on my paws. My immune system is very weak because I can never go out so then when I do and it’s cold I am sneezing all day so I wouldn’t like it to be too cold. Just so that it would look very pleasant. I’d like to be able to hunt something, maybe a seagull, so that my people would finally believe that I can think and take care of myself if need be. And I hate seagulls because they used to laugh at me and they always look at me in such an awful way when they see me like they wanted to eat me whole. But I wouldn’t like it to be unsafe out there. Peeps say it’s unsafe outside and that there are a lot of animals who can eat you or tear your fur into little shreds or someone could steal me or I could get lost. I wouldn’t like that. I would like to be able to go out and then come back home safely after a while so they could see I’m not that stupid and can come back home and wouldn’t let anyone to steal me or eat me.

Then, I’d like to have a very big breakfast, perhaps a chicken breast in herbs or a huge piece of salmon and a little bit of whipped cream for a dessert.

I’d like to get only food or natural toys for presents – Mish ice-cream, sausages, other snacks like that, leaves, feathers, cones, anything that smells good and is nice to roll around and bite, I would also like some rubber bands or glassballs to catch and play football with, and things like that. –

I’d like to be treated like an adult Misha who has his own mind and opinions on things and eat my meals on the kitchen worktop. I’d like to have lots of different places arranged for my nap time and not be disturbed by anyone while napping. I’d like all of those places to be filled with comfy furs or other smooth fabrics on which it is pleasant to sleep, like fox fur for example, or something very soft like that.

For lunch, I could eat a pork chop and have Mish ice-cream for dessert, and then go play with Zofijka for a while. Then I’d go outside for a little walk again to see what’s around our house, I think it’s very interesting, it’s always been very interesting for me, I’d like to see all those animals that I can hear at night. I would taste what water from the river tastes like and if it’s better or worse than bathtub water with shampoo and soap.

I would be able to look at everything in our house and touch everything, and I would like to be able to bite flowers and drink water from them and smell them because I love it and no one would care if I knocked a pot accidentally. I could be invisible when I’d need it or become bigger than I am if need be so that everyone would see me well and no one would step on me or kick me. Doors would be open everywhere all day long so I could go in and out as I wanted, or they would open immediately when I would say Hhrrru? In this house one must wait so long for the peeps to open any door, even if you hhrrru? your lungs out!

I would eat my cat food for dinner but as much as I’d like and then have 10 sausages. During the day, people would only touch me when I would want it.

So that’s my purrfect birthday plan. Hope that I’ll be able to make it come true one year. 🙂

What would be your purrfect birthday? What would you have to eat? 🙂

Mishpurrrs.

Misha 💜 💚 💙

My Misha’s silly ramble, and Misha’s song of the day – Faribosz Lachini – “Lonely Leaf”.

Hhrrru? 😻
This is Misha, but today there will be no episode of “The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru?”, I’ve ran off of ideas temporarily, so I’ll just ramble about my real, feline life.
How are you pets and peeps doing? What’s the weather like where you are?
It’s very windy here today and very chilly and I heard a lot of rain earlier. I am in a good mood today because I slept well at night, but I’m getting sleepy again, so I think I’ll go down to the laundry room and have a nap. Mum was there for a long time and I assisted her, she was sorting out some clothes and I love to feel and smell different fabrics. And she left the door open to the laundry room, even though she’s left the house now. It is not often that I can go to the laundry room when I want, and I really like it, because it’s very warm and cosy, so I shall jump on the chance soon. The peeps are having st. Nicholas’ day today and are giving presents to each other pretending that it weren’t them but st. Nicholas, which I think is stupid because they don’t even know him so why would he give them presents. But it’s also very cool because I got a present too. A whole pack of my favourite Mish ice-cream – that is my favourite sauce, yay! – I can’t wait when I’ll have some more, I only had one bowl in the morning.
But I wanted to tell you about one beautiful thing. I told you that it’s windy today. Very, very windy. The wind is howling outside and it is very interesting to hear. But it’s even more interesting to sit on the windowsill in the kitchen and look out at all the leaves that are dancing and swirling in the wind. You know I love leaves, don’t you? I do. I like to play with leaves when someone brings me some, I like to look at leaves moving, I like the rustling of leaves and I like to think about leaves. If I wouldn’t be a cat, I would like to be a leaf. I often feel like a leaf. A lonely leaf. But I think I wrote about that a lot too, even in my last “human” post. It’s sad when there is a lonely leaf. So I was looking out if there are any lonely leaves dancing in the wind on their own and every time I saw one, I was clinging closer to the glass to send it some warmth and to tell it that It’s not alone, that I am here and I sometimes feel lonely too. I hope it could hear me and see me. I believe that leaves have feelings, so maybe they can hear and see as well? I would like that to be true. I wanted to comfort all the lonely leaves on our backyard and tell them that even when they don’t have anyone else to dance with other than the cold wind they are very beautiful, even more beautiful dancing on their own! And that I love them and that deep down I am a leaf too! Is that stupid too? I am a little afraid it is, but a bigger part of me doesn’t care. And I saw that Jocky likes leaves too, which I am happy about because he is closer to them than I am so he can comfort them better. I think he was trying to dance with them but he’s too fluffy. The leaves must have been laughing at him. It’s cool that both me and Jocky like leaves and want to dance with them. But it’s unfair that he can and I can’t, I can only imagine I do, even though surely if I had a chance I would be a much better dancer than him because I am slimmer.
Do you like leaves? Do you think it’s stupid what I think?
Mila is soooo lazy and lousy today so I thought I will post song of the day today for her, because there hasn’t been any in a few days. I have a very different taste than Mila, I like jazz, I like classical music, and renaissance music, and baroque music, and some very calm, relaxing, electronic music, and other types of ver calm and relaxing music, sometimes I like opera, and very slow and melancholic tunes, especially oldies, some slower blues and film soundtracks, I like Russian pop and folk and such, and when I’m in a very happy-silly mood I listen to Russian drum & bass or disco, but only when I’m happy-silly, I think my favourite music genre is jazz and my favourite music instrument is piano. I hate rock though, I just hate hate hate it! But, there are some pieces of music that both of us like or that even all three of us like – with Zofijka. – So I chose such a song of the day that we all like because Mila would be mad at me if I posted something she doesn’t like, she thinks my music taste is mostly cringeworthy and I think hers is mostly trashy. Zofijka found this song last week on the Internet and I loved it so very much, and they both liked it too. The guy who composed it is from Iran and lives in Canada, and I’ve never been to any of those countries and never met him, but I think he wrote this especially for me, because even Zofijka agreed that it is so much my style and it’s about me. Zofijka also said a weird thing, that this piece makes her think of war and dying children. I think it’s strange. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.

Mishpurrs.

Misha 💜 💚 💙

The Human Life Of Misha Hhrrru? ep. 8.

Hhrrru? 😻

Yay! Finally I’ve got to write another post. How are you all pets and peeps doing? Here’s another episode of my what-if human life. *****

March 9

I am Misha. I am 8. I just came back from school today. It was mostly a very boring day but the last lesson we had was plast plast –
that is how I call art. – I love plast plast! My Mum does it, and my plast plast teacher used to go to college with her, but she’s not very nice to me because my mum is her friend. It’s the opposite. She is very demanding. She wants more from me than all the other kids. When any other kid does something a bit wrong she says it’s okay as it is, but when I do even a very little mistake, she is very worried and wants me to try more. I used to be a bit sad about it and think I’m so very bad at plast plast, and I didn’t want to be bad at plast plast because I love it and my family always tells me I am a very good painter, but mum told me she does it because she wants me to develop my talent. I guess it’s very nice of her. I want to be a very good painter and now I’m happy when she tells me that something is wrong. But at the same time, she’s hardly ever satisfied. She constantly wants me to improve something and even mum says she’s a bit too harsh on me because I am just a little child. But guess what? Today she was very happy with me.

She wanted us to draw or paint or present in any possible way that suits us, our favourite season. My favourite season is autumn, because I love leaves. I like to think about them. But it makes me sad when I think about lonely leaves. When one fallen leaf is lying alone, or among leaves of a different kind, with no leaf of its own kind, or if there is only one leaf on a twig or the whole tree, it makes me so very sad. When I feel lonely, I often think that I feel like a lonely leaf. Some people say it’s stupid because leaves are never lonely, but I think they can be, very often. Whenever it’s autumn and leaves are falling and I come back from school, I try not to step on them. My mum says I’m too sensitive about leaves and that they have no feelings. But I just love them! I’ve always had. It makes me sad when someone says they don’t feel anything, I’m sure they do. But mum thinks I have such strange thoughts and ideas because I’m the only child and have no one to play with. But I have Feluś, and when I don’t have Feluś I have myself to play with. And even if I had many siblings and many friends, which would be very lovely, I guess I still would be myself, wouldn’t I? With my own thoughts and ideas. I would still have enough place in my heart to love leaves and care for them. And when it’s getting cold, I sometimes take a couple leaves home with me and put them close to my bed, so that they are warm and cosy and they have me and I have them. Mum says it’s unhygienic. But how can something as natural as leaves be unhygienic? Perhaps I’ll have to make a bath for them when I take them home next year before I put them in my bedroom. I wonder how they would feel about that. But I wanted to talk about plast plast. So of course I decided I will paint an autumn picture. An autumn forest with colourful trees and with lots of leaves, but no lonely leaves because I didn’t want to feel sad. I miss leaves because there are none at this time of year. They were all happy and with their leaf families, and leaves on the trees were happy too. i even managed to paint the wind moving the leaves, and light rain was falling. I painted birds and some other small animals, and a little grey cat rolling around among the leaves. I was so engrossed in this that I didn’t know what was going on around me and suddenly I felt someone elbowing me. It was Feluś, he sits with me in class. “Hey, you, Misha, I’m speaking to you.” – he whispered. – “Hmmm what?” – I asked, looking up from my picture at him reluctantly. “I asked why do you painted a cat in this forest. Cats don’t live in the forest”. “This one does.” “Ahaa, and of course this cat is called Misha?” – he asked giggling. – I have a book series about a cat called Misha, and I myself often feel like I’d love to be a cat, and I often include a cat called Misha in my paintings. Feluś thinks it’s weird, and that I am weird, but he likes me anyway. I nodded, and got back to my picture. I finished it, and had a lot of time to wait for all the others to finish. Finally the teacher said the time has passed and that she’d now like to see our works. She came to me and Feluś in the end, and seeing my picture, she gasped.
“Oh, Misha! This is beautiful! Very simple, but you really have a knack for colour, I must admit that. There’s still a long way for you to go but I can say it now in front of the whole class that you are very talented and you need to develop it. But, why did you paint a cat here?” “It’s a cat called Misha.” “Ah, well, I assume this explains everything” – she laughed. – She didn’t understand and pretended she did, I don’t like it, but other than that I was sooooo very happy that she praised me. I got an A for this painting. I’m home now. My mum is abroad for a couple of days and grandma is here. She cooks us meals and all. It’s grandma from dad’s side, who lives nearby, not the one who gave me the books about Misha the cat. I’d prefer that grandma to come here and take care of me. This grandma is always irritated and grumpy and complains about everything and forces me to eat things I don’t like and is always asking what I’m doing and whether I did my homework, as if I never did, and when she’s not watching me she’s constantly watching very strange series on the telly. I’m not a baby, she doesn’t have to remind me of my school work. Today we had mushroom soup and liver for dinner, yuck! I guess grandma can cook better than mum, because mum often swears while cooking, cuts her fingers and does lots of strange unnecessary things and is always in a hurry, when she makes cereal for me she boils milk over most days so I’m late for school because she has to boil it twice or doesn’t remember to take out the cake in time from the oven, and grandma knows what she’s doing or at least she looks like she does, but at least mum doesn’t force me to eat what I don’t like, and grandma doesn’t even let me eat cereal. I had to eat scrambled eggs today for breakfast and I hate them. But actually I don’t like a lot of foods. I don’t even like bread, I never did. And grandma says it’s because I’m spoiled and don’t respect what other people do for me. No, I don’t if they do something I don’t like when they know I don’t like it, it’s malicious. But I actually haven’t done my homework today yet, so I better get to it now. Misha 💜 💙 💚

Fandango’s Friday Flashback – A description of Misha.

It’s my first time participating in

Fandango’s Friday Flashback

and I’m going to share with you a post I wrote exactly on the 22nd November last year. Technically it’s already Saturday here but this post is going to be a bit like a substitute for Misha’s usual Friday chit chat and The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru? of which no episodes have been published in four weeks, I’m very sorry about that and blame me for that, not Misha, he can’t wait for when I’ll let him write the next episode.

The post I wrote on November 22 last year was

A description of Misha

which I think was pretty good, so I hope you enjoy, especially those of you who haven’t read it before.

   Hey people! 🙂
I thought I would do some a bit more creative writing, I mean apart from my series and other stuff like that, just challenge myself a little bit more, as I hadn’t done anything like this for a while I feel, but didn’t have much of an idea what it could be. So I decided to look at the writing prompt for today at Word Of The Day Challenge, and saw that it is

oblong.

What can you write with this word in mind? What first came to my mind was a short story, with someone who would have oblong face as a main character – I absolutely love describing my characters thoroughly and very imaginatively, from their hair colour to their features to their style – but so far all my short stories are in Polish and somehow I don’t feel ready yet to write any in English, I still read much more in Polish than in English – when it comes to books at least, it’s quite the opposite online 😀 – so I feel like I should read much more before I start writing short stories in English.
So I started to think about all the oblong things in my room to find some inspiration, as I was determined to write something inspired by this – quite cool actually – word. There are some oblong things in my room, but I didn’t feel like many of them deserved any particular attention and a separate post in honour of them, other than my gem stones, some of them are oblong, and I could write a post about them, which sounded as a lovely idea.
But I thought that after all we live in a highly visual world, so I’d need at least some pictures (at least of those oblong stones, if not all of my stones 😀 ) to accompany my post. And right now I am not able to get anyone to take them for me, so, maybe another time, my collection is really big so you really have to have a lot of free time and good will to engage in taking photos of all of them.
So finally, as you may already suspect from the title, I decided to make Misha the hero of this post. Again. ‘Cause if you know Misha (or any Russian blue cat I’d suppose), thinking about something oblong you can’t not think about his little face.
You can see Misha in the logo of my blog, but there are also people who are blind/visually impaired who read my blog, so I thought a description of Misha should give them some more idea about him, and also, as I said, I really enjoy describing people, nature, weather, places, whatever! So why not Misha.
I am not sure how accurately and clearly, and how much of Misha you can see from the photo on my blog, anyway, I hope that those of you who can see it, will also enjoy this description.
Here goes:
Misha is an embodiment of gracefulness, refinement, charm, class and proportion. I feel tempted to say he’s also an embodiment of feline perfection, but saying that would probably show how blinded and doting I am. All Russian blues are like this, I mean classy and fairly proportional, but being able to know Sasha, as well as my aunt’s Russian blue cat – Flocky – I can easily say that Misha is far more classy and sophisticated in his looks than they are. Misha has an air of gentleness, fineness and calmness surrounding him. He’s not always that calm, he’s often very shy and anxious, but unless he’s not in very significant distress, he still emanates that calm charm. Yet he’s not only gentle. There is also lots of strength in him – as much his body and his spirits. – He is small, agile, slim, thin actually, and shapely, and has well-buil muscles, you wouldn’t call him “muscular”, at least that’s not one of the adjectives you would come up as first, still though, you can easily see how strong and well developed his muscles are. You can also feel his bones, he’s really pretty thin. He is of rather calm and passive nature but when he has a good reason, he can run very fast, jump and climb high, is very swift and light. But also there is carefulness in his movements, as if he really had it in mind not to knock anything over or not destroy anything, it very rarely happens that he makes any mischiefs like that. He is also really composed when playing with other beings most times, and often finds it hard to actually relax and play and be carefree. When he does play though and feels well, sometimes he may lose his control and really show all his strength and agility, as well as the sharpness of his teeth.
Misha’s fur is grey, but it has a bit of a blue glow, that’s why Russian blues are called Russian blues. SOmetimes it looks like silver, for example in the sun, and it seems as if it was shining and shimmering. That makes Misha easier to find in the wild world if he happens to escape. His fur is also double-layered, and very thick, although really short at the same time. Its thickness though, makes it feel like a coat a bit, and makes it really warm and comfy. It’s also incredibly soft, silky, and smooth. That softness and smoothness and thickness once let Zofijka to the conclusion that Misha’s fur is “like whipped cream when you touch it”. 😀 You know, in its consistence, sort of.Indeed, I must say that was an incredibly accurate comparison, although rather peculiar, ’cause Misha’s fur truly feels sort of “creamy” when you touch it. Or like a gorgeously soft and fluffy teddybear. We have lots of comparisons for Misha’s fur with Zofijka, as well as all his body parts and other stuff regarding him, we also have a whole lot of nicknames for him, but that’s another thing.
Misha’s head is small and round, and very proportional. It’s a pure pleasure to look at it. It’s just such a little, cute Mishball, soft and fluffy and delicate.
Yet his ears are big. ANd that was a surprise for us, I mean we wouldn’t suppose them to be that big. They’re not like extreme, they’re normal for a Russian blue, but we didn’t know that Russian blues have naturally rather big ears. Sometimes when I have any contact with cats of other breeds or mixed, it feels so shocking to feel how small their ears are in comparison to Misha’s haha. His ears are pointed, and very sensitive to touch, his hearing is also very sensitive, though I think it’s true for all cats in a way. He hates loud, particularly sudden noises. But it’s true for his whole little body that it is very sensitive for touch, I guess it’s some sort of nervous reaction, that sometimes he absolutely refuses to be touched, or will immediately lick or scratch himself whenever you touch him in that same place.
Misha’s nose is small and pinkish, another very proportional, little Mishball. 😀 Zofijka loves it. She likes to play with him as sometimes people play with babies or toddlers – puts her finger on his nose, presses it lightly and says “beeep!”. Wonder if it doesn’t piss him off sometimes, we all treat him like a child, but I guess he’s not that childish hahaha. At the same time though I can understand Zofijka ’cause his nose is really cute.
Misha’s eyes are bright green. Like very very green! People always love them, they are so mesmerising, their look is piercing, some people say that it can actually be unpleasant, or embarrassing in a way. But you can also see lots of intelligence in them, after all Russian blues are really fairly intelligent cats and I came across lots of people visiting us and commenting: “Wow, that cat of yours looks really quite brainy, didn’t you think about training him?” or things like that. And if you’re curious too, no, we didn’t think about training him, not seriously anyway, he seems too nervous and squeamish, and way too individualistic to just be trained and listen to our orders, even if he understands them. And we don’t have him to show him off, at least not in the first place, my Mum actually likes showing off with him sometimes haha, and I do too.
Misha’s whole face, as I said earlier, is oblong, but not too oblong, it’s really proportional. My aunt’s cat has actually much more oblong face and it makes him look a bit unfriendly. Misha’s face is just right. And he likes being stroked under his chin, among other places.
As I already mentioned, he’s very shapely and thin. If you move your hand down his spine you can feel all the bones and vertebrae and all. He has a really nice and soft belly, it’s almost always warm and we like to lightly lie on it, me and Zofijka, and listen to all his gurgles and his heartbeat and occasional purrs – as I told you many times before his purrs aren’t really loud and not as common as in most other cats, and his purrs seem to rather be self-assuring than signalising pleasure and happiness. He has a little crease a bit below his belly which apparently is a common thing in neutered male cats, and my Dad is always laughing at him how it’s moving when he is running or something.
His paws are small and oval, they’re really pretty small and cute and rather thin, but strong, they are mauve, so apparently just as they should be in Russian blues. And their insides are very smooth. Have you ever looked closely or touched a cat’s paws with some attention? Outdoor cats always have rather harsh and rough paws, while Misha’s paws are like a little baby’s. It never stops to amaze me, and I really like to touch them and hold them. And they’re so very proportional and elegant as well.
And Misha’s legs are really quite long, despite those small paws. That’s why he runs so fast I guess. Actually, you could generally describe him as “long”. When Misha lies straight, you can really see how long and slim he is, just an oblong shape with head and tail. I like to look at him lying like that, lying on his back, stretched out to  all his length.
Oh, and Misha’s tail, I nearly forgot about it. It’s also very soft, and nice to touch, and it’s relatively long. And it has stripes, but almost unnoticeable. THey were more visible apparently when he was younger. Sasha also has a striped tail, and it’s apparently visible in most Russian blue kittens, and then is less noticeable.
So, that would be my description of Misha, and I hope you enjoyed it and that it gave you some more idea of what he’s like. 🙂

My Inner MishMash Readership Award. And the winners are…

Hi people! 🙂

So, the time has come. The time to reveal the winners of my brand new conception which is My Inner MishMash Readership Award (or MIMRA).

My Inner MishMash is an award that is planned to be confered every year before Christmas, to the three most involved, insightful and engaged readers of My Inner MishMash as a way of expressing my gratitude and appreciation for their presence on My Inner MishMash, and also simply as a way to have some more fun on here.

I’m super excited to officially announce to all the people reading this blog that this year’s winners are… *fanfares and drumrolls*

Meg of Why Does Bad Advice Happen to Good People,

Ashley Leia of Mental Health @ Home,

and

Carol Anne and her system Many Of Us of Therapy Bits

(lots of applause for the winners, please!).

Thanks so very much to all three of you for sticking by, it’s hugely appreciated! 🙂 Also thanks to all the other involved readers of my blog, who I wasn’t able to award, as of course I can’t award everyone, but I hope you too do feel no less welcome at My Inner MishMash. 🙂

The awards have been sent out earlier today, and should actually be with you in 3 days (much earlier than I supposed, they’ll be travellin by plane, just like VIP’s should 😀 I just hope the packages didn’t get mixed up at the post office, haha). I really hope you’ll find your awards enjoyable.

Some people like surprises, some don’t, but I figured I’ll give you all a peep into what our winners are getting this year as part of their award, since my Mum took pics anyway.

Merry Christmas From Misha

Content of the MIMRA packages

Content of the MIMRA packages

Misha is not included in the award, 😀 he goes to me as My Inner MishMash Authorship Award. Mum wanted me to stress, to make sure that you won’t have to face too much of a disappointment, that the small carrier bags you’ll find at the top of the packages aren’t part of the award either, they’re just a filler, but I guess why not, it could be part of the award, especially that it contains some excerpts of a very weird Polish magazine, so, who knows, maybe you’ll find it interesting. 😛

As you can notice, the award is very much Mish-themed, and so are even the chocolates, in a way, although that was actually a pure coincidence. Their name is Michałki (Michałek is a diminutive of a Polish male name Michał, Michałki is the plural form, and Misha, well, after all Misha is a Russian nickname of Michael). 😀

Ashley, I’m sorry but your T-shirt is going to be white in the end, not black. I hope that is not a problem? Oh and I hope they will fit you guys well.

Also, last, but not least, HUUUGE thanks to my Mum for helping me materialise this crazy idea of mine, it couldn’t happen without her dedication, and she spent a lot of time running around getting things I needed for it.

I hope it will be at least as much fun for you, Meg, Ashley, and Carol Anne, as making those awards was for me, and thank you once again for being part of My Inner MishMash! ❤

 

Question of the day.

Ok, so I haven’t posted any questions of the day in a while, so let’s just have some general questions to catch up how we’re all doing.

How have you been doing?

My answer:

I’m focused very much on the My Inner Mishmash Readership Award. Everything is almost completed and I’ve only got a couple more things to do and then send it out. I suppose it might in the end be sooner than 26th November as I planned. As you may know from my Coffee Share post some time ago, I’ve got a package from a friend in the UK recently and I was genuinely surprised how long it took for it to get to me since she had sent it! So I thought I’d better do it sooner than later. Things are going really well so far and I’m very positively surprised with how all that special stuff I wanted to prepare for the winners went out in the end, I was a little apprehensive about that to be honest, but everyone around me has only positive feedback so that’s good, I don’t think they could be lying. Now Zofijka also wants an award. 😀

My computer has been acting up. I mean, it’s 5 years old, and it’s acting up since I guess March, but lately things are getting really crazy, something seems to be wrong with the drive and random programme and system files get damaged for a reason that remains an utter mystery to me. I have a feeling it could have to do with the drive cloning that was done in March, maybe something went wrong or whatever. Anyway, it looks rather unpleasant, like, you don’t know what will stop working today. When I reboot it, it does a lot of some weird scanning before the system actually starts, I only know about it from my Mum because my screen-reader doesn’t turn on by then yet, and usually during that scanning things repair but sometimes they don’t, or something else gets damaged straight away. I still don’t have my new one if you’re curious because it got damaged during the delivery so it doesn’t even work at all, we filed a complaint to the delivery company so that they would pay for the repair but they don’t seem to be up to it. I have mixed feelings about that. My old laptop is crying for rest and I’m afraid that it really won’t cope much longer with the amount of things I do on it, but at the same time I hate hate hate changes, and that will be a major change for a lot of reasons. But the more it gets delayed, the more anxious I feel about it, I guess.

I can’t go horse riding because I have a weird thing on my calf that is really painful. It happens to me every single year since a couple of years, at the time between autumn and winter. First there is a small, itchy bump, and then, before I realise, it sort of opens up and I end up with a red, throbbing hole that takes months to heal. I’ve tried antibiotics and lots of other stuff for that, but nothing makes it heal faster, and it’s painful when something rubs at it, or when I put a lot of pressure on the calf, which is hard to avoid while riding. It really sucks. I’ve noticed that little bump a couple days ago and I was afraid to even touch it even though it was itching quite a bit, hoping that if I won’t, maybe it’ll just go away. It didn’t. Also the bronchitis season has started for me as well. I don’t have it yet, but I feel increasingly phlegmy and have had to increase my allergy meds so I just know it can come any time now. But perhaps it will pass me this year, who knows. In any case, it seems to come because of the allergy, or episodic asthma that I have, or something like that, and I’m allergic to horses, so I need to be careful. Luckily, my instructor wouldn’t be able to fit me in this week either way, otherwise I’d be really frustrated. Maybe some miracle will happen until next opportunity comes…

Have I told you that Misha was sick? If not, he was sick, he had diarrhea and was vomiting and seemed quite sad and subdued. Mum took him to the vet, she gave him some dewormers, antibiotics and stuff, and said she’s not sure what the problem is, but if it’s not worms, it’s probably hairballs. Misha licks himself a whole lot, apparently more than necessary because of stress. Basically, when something upsets him he’ll isolate himself and lick and lick and lick and lick, Mum jokes that he should have turned snow white long ago from all that licking. When you’ll touch him, he’ll also often immediately start licking dynamically. And that could mean he has more hairballs than normally, plus he doesn’t go out, so he doesn’t have the green stuff to munch on and get rid of the hairballs, plus he doesn’t let anyone else other than Mum to brush him, and Mum only does it when she has the time and remembers about it, and feels like it. So we’ll plant some greens for him. What I always find a bit frustrating is that so many of the cues that Misha sends are not readable to me because I can’t see how he looks or all those more subtle signs, and also with him it’s the eye contact that matters the most and can tell you the most. And I’ve always been afraid and worried that something like this might happen, like that he’d be ill or something else would be wrong, and I wouldn’t notice it in time. That’s one of the reasons that if I lived on my own, or if I ever will, I would not take the responsibility for Misha for sure. And recently Mum said that it looks like we’ve all missed it, and that Misha must have felt unwell for much longer than we thought. He actually had such vomiting and diarrhea episodes in the past, only not as long, and Mum said that only now, as Misha has been treated properly,, she can see that he must have been ill, because now he is so lively as he hadn’t been in ages. His fur is more silky and shiny as well, and I feel like he’s no longer so sad so often. Also today I was carrying him upstairs and I have an impression he’s a bit heavier, which is a very good sign because the vet said he’s too skinny and that’s because he probably didn’t retain a lot of his food as well as he should because of the hairballs. Hairballs are not a serious thing, although I suppose they could be in the long term, but I feel really sad that Misha’s

malaise seemed to be neglected for so long.

So, you? How have you been doing? 🙂

The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru? ep. 7.

January 7.

I am Misha. I am 7. It’s Monday. I hate Mondays, but today is a very good day. Well okay, besides that I’m sick. But if I wasn’t sick, it wouldn’t be a good day, because I would have to go to school.

My best friend Feluś came to me for the weekend, for two sleeps, and we had lots of fun. I’ve got skates for Christmas from my parents and am still learning how to iceskate. So yesterday we both went to the rink, because Feluś can skate a little bit too, my dad took us, and we were skating. But it was frrrrreezing! And I didn’t want to take my hat with me, because I don’t like it. It’s gross. I wanted to go out without it but mum started yelling “Misha! Misha! Take your hat with you or your ears will fall off!”. But that hat is really awful and cringey and the last time I wore it to school a few boys were laughing at me that I look like an idiot in it and asked me whether my granny crocheted it for me. Mum says I look cute, but Mum always says I look cute, so I think they know better, this time at least. So I just pretended I couldn’t hear her. It was really cold and my ears did feel like they wanted to fall off, but they didn’t and I was brave and tried not to show how cold I was, though dad said my ears were very red and if I wanted to go home. Of course I didn’t. I like iceskating, you know? I am getting better at it. I am still a little bit unsteady but I don’t fall as often as I used to. It’s a lot of fun. I’m sure that soon I’ll be able to iceskate as fast and smoothly as my mum. Feluś fell once and hurt his knee, and looked as if he wanted to cry, but he was brave too, and didn’t. Luckily nothing bad happened to his knee, it was only a bit bruised, but I’m sure it must have hurt him a lot. I wouldn’t laugh if he cried, or call him a cry baby, as some other nasty people do. So yeah, we had lots of fun, and then when we came back mum said that we looked all blue from cold so she made us a bubble bath, and we were making soap bubbles and were splashing at each other. In the evening I was very tired and went to bed just after we watched some telly and Feluś’s grandma came to take him. I was exhausted.
I had a long dream, in which I was skating, all happy, and then suddenly I saw a big monster, who started to pull my ears, and drag me around the iceskate so very, very fast, and I was scared. He was whirling around with me and I screamed and cried, and then I couldn’t keep up anymore and fell down, and he was still dragging me around on my knees, and I had such large, disgusting bruises on them. I woke up and it was still dark, my ears were hurting, my throat was hurting and my head was hurting, and I couldn’t swallow, and I was so cold that I shook like a leaf. A lonely leaf. A lonely leaf always shakes more because he doesn’t have other leaves to keep him warm. And I always say that I’m lonely as a leaf, and everyone says it’s strange, because leaves are always in a bunch, even when they fall. But when most of the leaves on a tree fall, sometimes one stays and is the last to fall. And sometimes when the leaves fall, the wind will take one away from all the other leaves. Is it strange to feel lonely as a leaf? So I was shaking as a leaf, and I wanted to call mum, to close my window, I thought it was open because it was so cold, and I didn’t want to get up because it was just too cold and I was too tired. But I was too hoarse to call her, and it was so dark that I thought she must be sleeping. I raised up in bed and saw that the window was closed, and mum even put a blanket over me. I pulled it closer so that I was almost all hidden under it, and soon I fell asleep again. The next time I woke up it was very light and I could hear some papers rustling in mum’s study, and when I called her she came to me immediately. “Mum? I feel sick, I can’t go to school.” – I screeched. – “No, don’t worry, you won’t. It’s noon already. I was trying to wake you up in the morning but you wouldn’t even move. The next time you go iceskating you will put your hat on, won’t you?” “No, because it’s ugly.” – I said, and felt so happy that I don’t have to go to school.
I don’t feel well, my ears are throbbing and snotting every 5 seconds but at least I can do my plast plast thingy. Plast plast is how I call arts – painting and drawing and modelling and cutting and gluing and all that. – I love plast plast! Mum went out to the shops. I’m lucky because our family doctor isn’t at work today, so I didn’t have to go see him, will do tomorrow! Or maybe he’s sick too? I hate going to doctors, I almost never have to. I don’t like the smells in there, and people coughing and sneezing all around me, and the doctor putting that stick in my mouth, eww. And I hate medicines. Mum only gives me vitamin C now, it’s good because it’s fizzy and doesn’t taste too gross, but she says I’ll probably have to stay at home for a week, and take a lot of medicines. The first thing is great, the latter is horrible. It’s also a pity that I can’t play with Feluś. Actually, who invents illnesses and why? I would like to know. I’ve always wanted to be a painter when I grow up, but if I could be both a painter and an inventor, I’d like that. Then I’d invent such an illness that would last very long, and everyone would see straight away that you’re ill so you wouldn’t have to stick your tongue or measure your temperature, they’d just know, so you wouldn’t have to go to school or work, but you would feel well, or only a little little bit sick, so you can go out to play and have adventures, bruise your knees or do whatever you want and no one can tell you that you can’t. You just can’t do things that you don’t like and talk to people you don’t like because then you will infect them and they will have it too, you only want to infect nice people.
The worst thing is that when someone in our house is ill, either dad or me, mum gives us loads of veggies, and I hate them. And my mum isn’t a good cook, so things are always over- or undercooked. But I’ll deal with that somehow, though I am not hungry at all today because it hurts when I swallow and mum has to force me to eat and everything tastes so icky. At least she lets me play on the computer and do as much plast plast as I want and as I can in between having to snot, even with her things. Sometimes it’s very pleasant to be sick.

The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru? ep. 6.

Hhrrru? 😻
This is Misha. How are you pets and peeps doing? Any yummy things you’ve eaten this week? Any adventures? Me, I almost choked with a bracelet yesterday. Mum hung it on my neck, when Mila wasn’t around. Mila never lets people decorate me like a Christmas tree because it has happened a few times that it hooked on to something and I couldn’t free myself, and it almost choked me. That was a loose bracelet with a cat on it and Mum thought nothing would happen to me but I didn’t like the idea, and neither did Mila. It started to irritate me last evening and I wanted to do something with it and was yanking on it with my teeth, and then I couldn’t free my teeth from it and was choking with it again. Mila was soooo mad at Mum, and I was too, sort of.
Oh but I promised you to share my what-if human lifestory. So, here is episode 6. There won’t be episodes 1-5 because those are reserved just for Zofijka according to her request. So we’re starting at the time when I’m six years old. Here we go: *****
The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru? Ep. 6.
January 30.
It’s my 6th birthday today, yay! SO I have a lot to talk about. It was a fantastic day! I’m so happy, I couldn’t sleep last night, wondering what will happen today and what presents I will get. So I’m a bit sleepy now. I got up almost as soon as the sun was out and got dressed super quickly, like I never do, and was downstairs in 5 minutes.
“Oh, Misha, you’re up already?” – Mum was in the kitchen, stirring something, and looked very surprised. “What happened, you’re never out of bed that early on Saturdays? Did you forget it’s weekend?”
“Did you forget that it’s my birthday, mum?” – I chirped and felt so happy that I couldn’t resist and jumped up high in the air. I’m very good at jumping.
“Oh, really?! I completely forgot!” – I felt very hurt. How could she forget about my birthday? And yesterday she remembered, so why not now? “Mum, how can you not remember?” – I said with a very sad face.
“Oh Misha, you little silly sausage, how could I forget about your birthday? Of course I didn’t! I was just joking.” – I breathed a sigh of relief and laughed, at that “sausage”, I love sausages. She quickly came over to me and scooped me in her arms, and started spinning around the kitchen with me, as she used to when I was younger, singing Happy Birthday, and planting kisses all over my face in the meantime. “Happy birthday, my little, sweet, precious boy”.
“Mum, I am six… I’m not little” – I said, starting to feel a bit dizzy and embarrassed.
“Okay, okay, giant Misha. You must be patient and understanding with your old mother. For me, you will always be my tiny little Misha who is 3 and a half. My memory isn’t that good to always catch up with your age. Now, sit down and have a mug of hot chocolate. I’ve just made it for you.”
“Yeah, that’s what I love most about having a birthday. I always get a big mug of steaming hot chocolate. Not a cup, a mug. And there was a little cupcake with a decorative lettering on it saying “Happy birthday, Misha”. I knew it wasn’t my mum who made it, my mum is rubbish at baking, everyone knows it, but it felt so cool that I had my own special cupcake with Misha written on it. It felt a little odd to eat it. Most happily I would just keep it until monday and show off with it at the nursery, but… it was too yummy. So I sat at the table and ate my food. Mum didn’t even force me to eat sandwiches, as she always does. I hate bread. But I do like cupcakes. As I was eating, I could hear dad waking up and yawning, and pottering around the room. I was still enjoying my meal and just finished to eat the word “happy” off the cupcake when he came into the kitchen, still yawning and stretching and rubbing his eyes.
“Ah, Misha, you here already?” – he said, and I could hear he was still half asleep. Dad’s a heavy sleeper, just like me. I wonder why then did he find himself such a job that he has to wake up so early for it, and even on Saturdays. When I will be his age, I will be the boss, so I’ll never have to wake up early. I’ll sleep to 12 PM. Everyone will work for me, and I’ll only pop in there in the afternoon to see if they did everything well and give them their cellery. Loooots of cellery, and for their children too, even if they don’t like it. If they will work well I will give them loads of cellery but if not I will only give them carrots. I’ll be very fair with cellery, not like my Dad’s boss. I don’t know why people want cellery from their boss but my dad constantly complains about his, and that it’s too low and not as much as it should be. Indeed, I’ve never saw him coming back from work with cellery, but I’m quite happy about it, I hate it. And I hate all vegetables. Mum says I’m very picky and would only eat meat and junk food.
Dad was drinking his coffee and reading a newspaper, but I could see he wasn’t paying attention to it.
“Dad, do you remember?”. – He jumped in his chair as if I woke him up from a nap. “Yes, yes, I remember about your swing, I’ll repair it tomorrow”.
“I’m not talking about the swing, dad!” – yeah, that’s always the case with my dad, he never remembers the most important things. – “Do you remember what’s the day today?” “Ah, yeah, Saturday.”
“But it’s a very special Saturday.”
Finally Mum had to chime in.
“Filip, your son is desperately trying to get your attention. It’s his birthday today. Misha is six years old!”.
“Oh my God, the time is flying so fast!” – Dad said, suddenly looking much more brisk. – “So, how many bumps should I give you, son?” “Seven!” – I yelled with a thrill of happiness.
“Not now, he’s just eaten.” – said Mum.
“Okay, so maybe we’ll do it after I come back from work?”
“No, no, dad, please no! I’ve only eaten a bit.”
He glanced uncertainly at mum and I prayed that she would agree. I loved getting birthday bumps! “Okay, but be careful. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
I clapped my hands excitedly. “Yaay!”.
He bumped me up in the air and I gasped and laughed happily, with my eyes wide from both joy and a bit of fear.
“You’re too light, your mother has to give you more chocolate to drink!” – said dad, finally putting me down on to the floor. “More! More! Please, dad, I want more!” – I screamed and laughed.
“No, it’s forbidden. If you get more bumps than how old you are plus one, it will make you very unlucky this year. You don’t want it, do you?”. –
“You’re lying! I want 10, no… 20… 25 bumps, so I’ll be lucky for many, many years. I’ll be too heavy to be bumped up when I’ll be an adult, so I want enough of them now. Maybe even 50”. “Okay, 25.” – agreed dad after a while.
“Filip, don’t be crazy!…” – mum tried to intervene, but I was already in the air again, squealing with joy.
In the end, no one counted how many bumps I received. Soon even mum joined in, and we started playing that they were sending me high up into space. Mum took out a big blanket and wrapped me up in it, and they were both holding it and lifting me very high up into the air. Until finally I hit the chandelier with my foot, not strongly, but mum was afraid we will break it, and said that we’re all insane and need to stop.
My chocolate was already cold, but mum just sighed and made me another one, but without as much foam, it was still good.
Just as I finished my breakfast, I noticed that mum went into the living room and was now carrying a few packets in her arms.
“Wow, presents for me!” – I screamed, and started tearing the paper on all of them at once. “Easy, Misha, your presents won’t run away.” – dad said cool-headedly.
I didn’t care. But I had to decide which box to open first, after all. I decided on the biggest one. It took me some time and effort to open it, but when I did, I couldn’t believe my eyes… I stared at my present with open mouth… A big, beautiful painting set. Just for me.
“Do you like it?” – mum asked tentatively after a while. “Dad said it’s too much and too fancy for a child your age, but at least you won’t have to paint on my easel anymore. And we do think you are a very talented lit… big boy. Incredibly talented. And you need to develop this talent.” – mum was speaking to me so calmly and seriously, and as if I was a really very big boy, and it made me feel so proud of myself. When my first shock passed, I quickly stood and ran up to her, hugging and kissing her. “Thank you, mummy! You’re fantastic. It’s so great!”.
“You need to thank dad most importantly.” – she said when I finally freed her from a very strong hug. So I ran up to dad and thanked him as well. I was so happy I could have cried.
My mum is an artist and paints a lot, and I’ve always loved painting too, but I’ve never had my own things to do that with. And now I had my own little easel, my own paintbrushes, beautiful watercolours, and even a box of new crayons, and some other artsy things. I couldn’t wait to try them out.
I could see my parents were also moved with my joy, but now dad really had to go to work. He kissed both of us and left.
I left my painting set on the table and went to see what other presents I got from my parents. There was a little lockable diary, with a cat and my name written on the front cover. My parents always say that I resemble a cat very much, and that I must have been a cat in my previous life, if there are previous lives. And I really like cats and things with cats on them. They really like me, too. I also got very warm and cosy slippers with cats on them. “It’s still winter, Mishka, and you didn’t have any good slippers” – Mum said.
I liked them a lot as well. I like smooth and warm things. There was also a pair of brand new football boots for me, which made me euphoric. I love football!
“Oh, and this is a present from your grandma” – mum said, producing another box. –
There was a small picture book – “Adventures of a Cat Called Misha”. “Yay! That sounds like the right book for me! And this cat is grey! My favourite colour!”
“This is just the first book in the series. We can read all of them sometime if you like it. I told grandma that there’s no way you wouldn’t like this book.”
It was a very pleasant day. I spent it just as I liked. I didn’t have to go to the nursery, and mum didn’t have to go anywhere either. I had the time to try out my new painting set, and I painted a little scene that my mum liked very much.
I painted a big, green grassland, with lots of different animals in the background, and some pretty flowers. In the middle, there was a big blanket, and my parents and me were sitting on it, and there was a big basket full of food. We were having a picnic. After a while I also painted my new football boots on my feet, and a football lying close to me, so that someone could think that Misha in the painting has just been playing football.
Mum said it was “breathtakingly skillful and detailed for a 6-year-old boy” and for a little while she indeed looked as if she couldn’t breathe.
Later that day, we had pizza and my family came. Grandma, aunt and uncle, and their son – my cousin Sasha. – His real name is Aleksander, but no one calls him that. They all were stunned by my painting too, and spoiled me with compliments. Sasha wanted to paint something too, but he is only three and doesn’t really know how to do it. He only wanted because I did. I let him use my crayons. I don’t want anyone to paint with my watercolours. Not such babies like Sasha for sure.
I also played a bit of football, but there’s no one living near us with whom I could play, I can only do that with my friend Feluś from school so that was a bit dull to play on my own.
After they left, mum told me that she had some spare clay and I could play around with it if I wanted. I love clay! And in the end we both ended up playing around with it, making lots of animals out of it. My mum is really good at that. I hope one day I will be as good as her.
Dad came back in the evening, a bit earlier than usual, and mum made a huge bowl of popcorn, we and watched cartoons for a few hours. That was so cool! My parents don’t usually do that with me. Dad just takes a shower and goes to bed because he is so tired, and mum always has tons of other things to do, even if she is home all day. So I was really really happy. And now I’m really really sleepy. Mishpurrs. 😴
Misha 💜 💚 💙

Misha: Zofijka’s got an idea.

Hhrrru? :3
How are you pets and peeps doing? Have you had anything very yummy to eat this week? Some great adventures? Let me know!
I wanted to write about an idea that Zofijka had recently and ask if you like it.
So, you know that I have a brain connection with Mila? Like, I can connect my brain to hers and then I can type (she doesn’t let me to type on her keyboard Mishself because I once blocked it hehehe) and do all sorts of things that humans do via her, sort of remotely, especially when we are with Zofijka. Mila often tells me what I should tell Zofijka because Zofijka listens to me more than to her and she likes to ask me about things or tell me what she was doing at school – lots of boring things but people usually bore me to death with their lives so I’ve kinda gotten used to it and can even pretend I’m incredibly intrigued and at the same time think what I’ll have for supper. – I can also connect to Zofijka but she doesn’t like it so I only do that when I want to do some artsy things like drawing, but she hardly ever lets me anyway. – When I’m connected to someone, I have the access to their brain world and we can exchange information and it’s very fun but a bit complicated, I don’t think any other pets even use such innovative technology. I usually talk to Zofijka in the evenings when she’s in bed and when she’s going to sleep either me or Mila tell her a story. Mila tells her about Jim – that dude in Australia that I think she has written about, who doesn’t need to eat and lives on helping everyone in the world – and I tell her very short stories about what my life would be like if I was a human. Every day I tell her about one day in my life, one per year. I always start it “I am Misha I am… years old” and I tell her about one day in each year of my fictional human life.
And earlier this week, when I was telling her about my life at 14, she suddenly interrupted me and said “Actually, Misha, why wouldn’t you write about that on your blog? Ask Mila, maybe she will let you”. And I was so excited, yay, that’s a great idea!
So, tell me, pets and peeps, would you like to hear about my human life? Let me know, and Mila says we could start a Friday series on that. It’ll be completely spontaneous, not exactly how I would love to live had I been born human, but just what comes to my mind, good and bad things. But Zofijka says she doesn’t want me to write about when I was very little, until 5, because she wants that to be just for her, so I’ll start from when I was six, it’ll be a little bit like diary entries, or something similar.
All the pets out there, what would you like to do with your lives if you were humans? Mishpurrs. :3
Misha