It’s Misha. How are you pets and peeps doing?
As for me, I’m going to the vet today. I overheard Mum talking to Mila about that and Mum brought my basket downstairs – the one I like to sleep in – and she’ll carry me in it there. Sasha’s going too, he’s still crying. I mean, he’s not really crying, but his eyes are watery all the time and he has to take those awful eye drops and he hates it. It’s not nice, I know it, but I don’t think it’s really as awful as it seems to be for him, it’s always a big trouble for peeps to give him those eye drops because he is very scared and acts as if he was scared. For me it’s unpleasant, but not scary. THere are much more scary things out there. But Sasha isn’t scared of them. I guess everyone has their own fears and everyone thinks their own are the biggest and most important and most serious. But I wanted to say that I’m stressed, because of that vet visit. It always stresses me out. But Sasha isn’t stressed at all. I hope I’m now healthy, but I was throwing up earlier today. Mila got scared I thhink, she always does. And Mum got cross with me. But it’s not because I’m still sick.
Mum had some pickled herrings and I just felt such a very strong urge to try them. I couldn’t resist it! They were very surprised – “Wow, Misha, your taste is changing?!” – I ate A LOT of them and very very quickly, I didn’t even bite everything, and Mum was like WOOOOW Misha are you OK? And then I felt quite weird so I left the kitchen and then I threw it all up immediately.
Now I know herrings are not for me. I mean, pickled herrings. But if I wouldn’t taste them, would I know it? Sure not! So what’s the whole drama about? I just like to have some adventures once in a while.
And recently I don’t like my usual snacks as much as I used to. Mum says I’m fussy and capricious. Sasha, on the other hand, eats everything, even my food and my snacks. And poops and pees all the time. Not always where he should. They get really cross with him all the time, but he’s likeable and sweet and I guess that’s why he’s still here and not in a shelter. Zofijka once told me that some animals have to be in shelter, when no one wants them. I’m glad someone wants me. I wouldn’t like to be in a shelter. I wouldn’t have my own place and there would be so many animals. And I think it’s just unseenly for a Russian blue to be in a shelter, so I’m glad that Sasha isn’t either, it would be a shame for us Russian blues.
I don’t know what to do now. My basket is downstairs, and Sasha sleeps on Mila’s wardrobe – in MY very personal hideout. I don’t know why she let him come in there. I’m not jealous. I just want my things to smell like me, otherwise I’m stressed and I don’t know what to do and I feel like it’s not mine anymore so no one likes me because everything here smells like Sasha. I know that in fact they like me more because I was the first and they know me longer and I poop where I should and not wherever I am at the moment, but I still feel this way. It’s awful. Maybe I’ll go downstairs and lie in my basket anyway.
On Wednesday we were home alone – me and Sasha. Olek popped in for a while but other than that, we were home alone. They closed us in the cellar. I like the cellar, but I didn’t like to be closed in one room with Sasha all day long. But Mum had to close Sasha so that he wouldn’t poop God knows where and Sasha hadn’t been in the cellar before so he’d be scared on his own. He’s always scared when he’s on his own, just like Zofijka, silly baby. Well I actually told him I won’t call him baby anymore since today, because he had caught a fly and ate it whole. He is better at it than me.
So anyway I was closed too. Mum made lots of toys for us and gave us all our toys, well, they are mine, but I don’t play with them, I rather prefer playing with things like feathers or leaves that smell very nice, but Sasha will play with anything. We had food and drink and our litterboxes and lots of room to play, and it would be fun, but I was stressed because Sasha was with me all the time. He is nice, but I’m still fearful of him. I can’t help it. But he likes me. He likes to lie on me and purr, but I didn’t let him. I curled on the windowsill and looked at him playing and then we both fell asleep. Sasha pooped to his litterbox and on the pouf, and I felt I need to poop too, but was too stressed. And I barely ate anything. When they finally came back it was already dark outside. Mum washed Sasha and cleaned up his poops and let him out and finally I could relax and do my business, when he was out of there. I don’t like to do it when someone else is with me. So yeah, I’m still having a lot of stressful time.
Tomorrow mum is going for a cat show, but no, I am not going, luckily. I would hate it, but they say they would hate it too – if I was touched and looked at by everyone around. Sasha isn’t going either, he’d maybe like it, but he wouldn’t fit in with his always tearful eyes and who knows where he’d decide to poop at the show, he can be quite unpredictable as for places he chooses for it.
Mum jus came back from the shop, so I think we’ll soon go to the vet.
Mishhugs and Mishpurrs for everyone. 🤗