Question of the day.

Your pet turns into a human. What do you do?

My answer:

At first I think I’d be really scared. Like, such a process certainly can’t be nice, it would look scary. I wonder if Misha would be scared too. He’s normally very anxious and nervous so I suppose yes, but I have a feeling that he’d be more calm and collected as a human. He’d apparently be 36 years old. Quite a mature age, especially compared with the way we, but especially myself, treat him. He seems to not mind it very much at all as a cat, but probably would as a human, so we’d have to start to treat him accordingly. Some clothes shopping would have to be done for sure. Sofi would get perpetually traumatised if she saw a naked dude with no testicles running around the house after she comes back from school. Speaking of the testicles, I suppose he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to take a revenge on us, in whatever form that might be, for depriving him of this essential body part. Perhaps there would be some court case involved…

I wonder what would the whole transition process be like. I mean, after all, he’s never been a human before. Would it be difficult for him to adjust to such change and would he still have a lot of cat-like behaviours and find it all difficult to understand or would it be smooth, perhaps voluntarily initiated by him, and he’d find his place in the human world fairly easily? Would he still like to wear grey, or would he be sick of the colour and would prefer more bright colours? I doubt it. He’d have to have a bed somewhere, or preferably his own room, I guess it would no longer be appropriate for him to sprawl himself on my bed or Sofi’s armchair, he’d have to have a place for himself. I’m not sure how we’d go about that. Perhaps I’d have to move in with Sofi, ugh. But I guess my room would be more inhibitable for him than Sofi’s, and he’s liked it more so far. Unless Olek would finally find his own place and move out, that would be ideal as I’m sure the human Misha would like that room the most, I’m afraid mine would be too girly. And in Olek’s room there’s a balcony so he could go out there. Or perhaps he’d rather want to leave us and start a life of his own? I’m sure he could go far and be very successful. I suppose he would have his brains in the right place and would be quite intelligent since he already does pretty good in this area as it seems for his species’ standards. But maybe he wouldn’t care about being successful. Maybe he’d prefer to live a more Snufkin lifestyle, having loads of adventures which he’s always craved so much, sleep roughh and visit us occasionally, just like the Snufkin in the Moomins. He’d probably be really frustrated with us though that we’ve been imprisoning him like a slave for so long, so maybe he wouldn’t visit us at all.

I wonder what he’d like to say to us. I always feel it’s a pity that Misha can’t speak and tell us how he feels about things, what he likes and what he doesn’t, what he would like, what he thinks about things etc. it would be so interesting. Or at least that he’s not a bit more vocal. But Mum claims that once he’d be able to speak, he wouldn’t shut up and he’d be very annoying, talking about food all the time and trying to persuade us to let him out. I feel though that if he was a human he wouldn’t be particularly talkative at all. I just have a hard time imagining that. I really think he’d go towards the other extreme where he’d be so quiet that people would consider him rude. Not out of shyness or lack of confidence, just because he wouldn’t feel the need to share stuff with the world. I also don’t think he’d be such a scaredy cat as he’s now, when I think of a human Misha I imagine him as very confident, arrogant even. He’d also not be quite so childish as he is, but he’d still probably be a bit immature since, let’s be honest, he hasn’t had too much experiences in life. I think that he’d be like a little toddler in that he’d tend to overestimate his abilities and not fear things that normal adult people fear, like heights, for example, or stuff that is generally risky. Perhaps after the whole five years of understimulation and lethargy, he’d be a proper adrenaline junkie or something. I think he’d be a real hedonist and if he decided against being a real-life Snufkin and stayed with us or have a residence of his own, he’d take great care about what he eats, how his surroundings look like etc. In fact I think it’s possible that after a couple years or even months of Snufkin life he’d figure that it’s actually a lot easier to be a lord and he’d come back to his mostly sofa-orientated lifestyle. So he’d need a good job to satisfy all his whims. I wonder what he could do for a living but I can’t come up with anything very suitable for him. Sofi always says that he could be something like an advisor, like listening to people’s problems and helping them, but I can’t see him being a therapist, he’d probably be a good listener indeed but way too egocentric. Perhaps he’d be some eccentric artist, like a writer or a painter… Yes! How could I forget about that?! Misha definitely has some inclination towards visual arts and I think that’s what he’d be doing. Or he’d make some experimental music or jazz or other stuff that’s hardly digestible for most people. I don’t know if it’s a thing in English, guess not, but in Polish, very chaotic, cacophonic music is idiomatically referred to as “cat music”, and a lot of people call experimental stuff cat music, so that seems quite ideal. I’m not sure it would suffice to satisfy his whims, but who knows. Or perhaps he could pursue a sports career and be a footballer or something. Or move to Russia, quietly poison Putin and establish his own regime. Or he’d found his own cult where the members would be obliged to worship him and he’d wash their brains while claiming to heal them. I’m sure he could make a very successful dictator or absolute monarch but I’d be curious as for what his political views would be like. I feel like if he stayed here we’d often argue about those things. Regardless of what he’d do for a living, he’d no doubt be very attractive and magnetic even without his bits, and seduce women across the world. Not having a normal, sexual life would likely cause him a lot of frustration, but I’m sure he’d be very innovative and creative in this area, and perhaps even change the common mentality around relationships a bit, that it doesn’t have to be all about or for the sake of sex. Perhaps he’d enjoy enough esteem that it would even become trendy for people to get rid of his bits and adopt feline-like manners.

Oh but the question was what I would do, not what Misha would be like, right? So, well, yeah I’d have to buy him clothes, probably give him my room if he decided to stay here, and even though it would probably be quite problematic and a weird situation I’d love for him to stay here. I’m sure that aside from some possibly very differing views and ideas on things we’d get along pretty well overall, we’ve lived the entire five years together, after all, and we’d have loads to talk about and share with each other. And if he decided to leave, I’d have to get over id, and in the end it would probably be me who would be most frustrated of all, that despite all my efforts, love, dedication and loyalty, he now sleeps with and purrs for everyone else but me. 😀

How about you and your pet(s)? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is the simplest thing that makes you happy?

My answer:

I’ve said it many times before that Misha makes me happy, but one particular thing about Misha that makes me really happy is when he eats something he really likes. When he’s enjoying himself so much that his bowl is moving back and forth as he’s eating and he eats more noisily than normal and when he’s eaten, he rubs his head with his paw, as if he was stroking himself. When he does that, it means something was really really delicious. I just like when Misha is happy and it makes me happy too.

You? 🙂

Question of the day (23rd August).

What’s a boring fact about yourself?

My answer:

Hmmm… I’ve been thinking about this question for quite a while now, and I have to conclude that, perhaps a bit paradoxically, it’s more difficult to come up with boring facts than at least slightly interesting ones, I guess because you never really think about the really boring, really obvious stuff ’cause it’s too obvious to think about. Is the fact that I have a photo of Misha as my phone wallpaper sufficiently boring and predictable? 😀

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day.

If there was one thing you could ask your future self, what would it be?

My answer:

That’s easy. Do you still live with Misha and if not, who does he live with? Or, if he has died by then, how are you even coping with it, or maybe you are not? What’s life like without Misha, after having lived with Misha? More than one question, but all about one thing, so I guess it’s not cheating.

You? 🙂

Question of the day.

Do you prefer dogs or cats?

My answer:

I guess my answer’s going to be quite obvious for most of my followers, if not all of them. Yes, I prefer cats. I feel a lot more in common with them and I feel I can understand them better than dogs and interacting with them is a lot easier. That’s not to say that I don’t like dogs though. I absolutely do. We have Jocky, after all, and when I grew up we always had some dog, or more than one sometimes, which was not the case with cats. Well, okay, we had a lot of them running in the backyard, but only had one indoor cat before Misha for a while, with whom I didn’t have much of a connection because, a lot like Misha, he was more on the aloof side, and since I spent most of the time at the boarding school, naturally he didn’t have enough time to get to know me, nor did I know him well enough. Still, just like I said, overall, if I have to choose, I’d always choose cats.

You? 🙂

Question of the day.

Would you rather have three pets or three kids?

My answer:

I think three pets is a more realistic option as I am most likely not going to have kids and have no desire for that to happen. Also we already do have over three pets – Misha, Jocky, and several fishes. –
That being said, I think if I lived by myself three pets wouldn’t be an option either, I wouldn’t decide to have more than one pet for sure, and I most definitely wouldn’t if I still had Misha, Because the only pet I would ever consider having would be a cat (well, I would be extremely happy to have a horse too, but it’s probably even less likely to happen than kids, and especially if I lived on my own 😀 ) and we learned the hard way that it’s not a good idea to have another cat while we have Misha. Even if it wasn’t Misha, I think I’m probably always going to be wary of the idea of having more than one cat at a time, having heard very different opinions about this and having had the negative experience with Misha and Sasha that I’ve had, I wouldn’t like to go through something similar again. Even aside from whether they would get along or not, I think having just one cat would let me give more love and attention to it without having to divide it, and also it’s just easier to take care of one vs three.

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day.

What was the last health or beauty product you purchased?

My answer:

There might have been something more recent that I just can’t recall, but the most recent thing that I can think of was for Misha’s health actually, that is deworming tablets. His deworming was already overdue, and although getting Misha to swallow a pill is a nightmare for both him and the person involved, it’s still better and more short-term stress than getting him to the vet for an injection.

You? 🙂

Happiness.

I thought I would do some journaling prompt-inspired post today, and I picked this prompt from Hannah Braime’s book called The Year of You:

“What does happiness mean to you?”

Thought it would be quite in-line with today’s question of the day.

They say happiness is easy to not notice, and you can find out that you had it only when it leaves you. It’s very true. Happiness is very quiet, makes hardly any sounds and walks very quietly, and is very small. It also often easily blends in with its surroundings because of its colour, so you don’t necessarily have to be blind to not notice it. It is also very easy to scare it away, even with just one unnecessary movement or sound. And then it may be very difficult to get it back to you. Happiness doesn’t like everyone, even if almost everyone likes it. Generally I’d say that a good rule to follow is that the less desperately you try to make Happiness come to you, the more successful you may be at it. Happiness doesn’t like unnecessary attention being drawn to it. If you call it and are lucky enough that it comes to you, don’t overuse its trust and don’t call it all the time. Also when it comes, make sure to provide it with the best food and sleeping accommodations possible. It’s not always the best idea to come very close to it. It always knows best what should the distance be between it and you, and if you will accept it calmly, it will be more likely to come closer than if you try to force it. When you hear Happiness at your door, it is not wise to wait with opening it, you should do it right away, or it will go somewhere else.

Happiness is very gentle and never intrusive. It is warm, soft and very smooth. It likes soft, quiet places, which is where you can usuallyy find it. There is only one Happiness in the world, which is probably just exactly why so many people are unhappy, and it often likes to hide. It is very clever, playful, but also a real scaredy cat. Almost everyone who sees it for the first time gasps in awe and wants to hold it, but it’s rare that you would be granted such a luxury right away. It has relatively big ears, so that it always can hear when unhappy people call it, but it doesn’t mean it’ll always come. It knows better than you when you actually need it most.

Unlike what many people may think, Happiness is grey. Not pink, rainbow-y, not even green, but grey. Perhaps this is another reason for why people often don’t notice it, since, ironically, the colour grey is associated with all things gloomy. Another fact about Happiness which may seem strange to many people is that it originates from Russia –
which seems to be feared as a whole by many people these days. – Perhaps the devil’s not so black… (if happiness can be grey, everything’s possible). It also has some Czech ancestry. Originally, Happiness cost $500, more or less (obviously because people, as always, didn’t even know what it actually was and what its value was, just that it looked kinda cute). I’m sure though that, if it ever had to be sold again (although I’m having a difficult time coming up with any legit reason why one would want to sell Happiness) its price would be much higher, and not even Bill Gates or Elon Musk could afford it. It only exists since 2016 (how did we manage to live prior to that excedes my understanding at this point).

Happiness can often be found curled up in a little ball. Although I said it doesn’t like too much attention, it also doesn’t feel well when you don’t pay any attention to it whatsoever and can feel hurt. Happiness loves flowers, leaves, feathers, birds, and especially the sunshine. It also loves routine, warmth and safety.

Happiness is actually male. He has the brightest green eyes. He poops every day and never flushes the toilet after himself. He has lots of facial hair, and he never shaves. Same about his armpits. Despite that, he always smells heavenly, and never sweats. He seems to enjoy, jazz, classical, baroque, and relaxing piano music, but secretly delights in Russian D&B.

The whole drama with Happiness – why so many people are unhappy, or pretending to be happy, or searching for Happiness, or racing after it, or find it so difficult to define Happiness, and all the other troubles that are caused by lack of Happiness – it has one very simple reason. Right now, Happiness is in my kitchen, happily eating sausage, and I’m not going to give him away any time soon. 😉 What a bad, selfish Bibiel, keeping all the 4 kg of Happiness to herself, when so many people die without having ever felt a warm touch of Happiness. But hey, not all is lost, I can always sell you a bag of Happy Poop (if only you can afford it 😉 Maybe it would work to some extend).

And maybe there’s also another reason for all the trouble with Happiness. If you want Happiness, affirmations, meditations, manifestations – they won’t work. – It’s best to be straightforward with Happiness and call him by his name, just like you would everyone else. Happiness is called Misha. Or better even, if you want to manifest Happiness in your life, say “Mish Mish Mish!”. Or make some other hissing, rustling sounds, and, who knows… maybe his ears will be big enough to hear you, too…? Maybe he already did, but the front door is locked, so he can’t get out to help you. Don’t blame me, it’s my Mum who locked it and watches Misha like Cerberus. 😛

Okay, so that’s my definition of happiness for you. If you’d rather have a more abstractive/serious one:

Happiness, for me, is any state of mind when I’m not unhappy.

Generally, I don’t really know if I know what happiness is. I hate it when people sometimes ask me if I’m happy, or unhappy. I know what unhappiness is and I know full well that I’ve experienced it, and I also know that I am not unhappy now. I also know what it’s like to feel joyful or euphoric, but I guess happiness isn’t really a feeling but more like a state so I don’t think you necessarily have to be happy when you’re feeling joyful, just like you don’t have to feel sad all the time when you’re unhappy. I’ve had depressive tendencies ever since I remember and had my first major depressive episode diagnosis when I was 8, but at the same time I laugh a lot and can be very enthusiastic about things. Sometimes it comes more genuinely, sometimes I need to fake it a bit, or a lot, but even so, I think it’s a natural part of me. Still, the depression is always there and I guess I’ve never felt happy the way people do when they don’t have stuff like this glued to their brains. Therefore, when someone, typically my Mum, asks me “Are you happy?”, I’ll always answer yes if I’m not unhappy. I try to keep myy expectations low in this department and be, well, happy, with what I get, if it’s something good. This strategy has served me well, as it’s a lot nicer to have your expectations exceded than unfulfilled, right?

I hope the way I explained it makes sense to people. 😀

So, how is it with you? Is there someone/something that embodies happiness for you? What is your definition of happiness, whether abstractive or more specific? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is something small and seemingly insignificant that brings you joy?

My answer:

The main thing that brings me joy and is definitely small, although we could and should argue about the “seemingly insignificant” part, is Misha. And also that Misha seems to be feeling better and is in a happier mood than he was recently.

Other than that, books, music, food, sleep, surrounding myself with my languages, some fun dreams I’ve had recently, playing BitLife –
although you probably wouldn’t call my current life in there the most joyful or successful one, even though I’m a millionaire and a member of the Danish royal family, at least to me it seems a bit grim – writing with my penfriends, playing with Sofi, being alone, some small milestones in my Welsh learning, my gem stones… yeah, these are all things that come to my brain right now.

You? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is something that is annoying/frustrating you?

My answer:

Mostly, I’m waiting for something, something that is generally positive (or at least I hope it’ll end up so but I can’t be sure) and waiting for it to happen is a very long and stressful process. Perhaps I wouldn’t exactly describe it as annoying, but it is making me feel a bit on edge lately, and all the tension that is building around it in my brain.

I’m also frustrated with people who make good apps but make them inaccessible. Just because I’ve been seeing a lot of such stuff lately.

And it seems that Misha isn’t feeling fully well, he acts as if he had a sore throat or something, but it’s impossible to look in there for anyone. It frustrates me when we can’t help Misha because he’s so anxious. Not that long ago we also had a situation where we felt it would be good if Misha had a urine test to check on his kidneys because he had a time when he was drinking way more than normally, and it was virtually impossible to do. The vet gave Mum some different litter to put instead of his usual one, that in fact wasn’t really litter but something that was supposed to cheat a cat into believing that it is and then make the process of testing a urine sample more doable. Well, maybe it works for other cats, but Misha is definitely a creature of habit and he absolutely didn’t like having his litter changed. We were hoping it was a matter of time and he’d have to pee at some point, but he wouldn’t pee for an entire day, instead being very erratic and nervous because he didn’t feel like he could do this at all. And no, he didn’t pee outside his loo either, it would be unthinkable for him to do, even if he’s in the greatest possible distress, I guess, he’ll never pee somewhere random. So we never ended up doing the test, but thankfully Misha’s drinking habits got back to normal.

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is something that is making you happy?

My answer:

Part of me is very happy that Easter is coming very soon, since this is such a joyful holiday filled with hope and how couldn’t I be happy about it, as a Christian! 🙂 On the other hand, I’m not so happy about it because for me holidays like that and often some time leading up to them are always very stressful and just so uncomfortable overall for all sorts of reasons and it’s getting to me a bit already.

Misha always makes me happy, although lately I’ve been worried about him because he doesn’t seem to be feeling well.

Oh, and my Welsh progress is making me extremely happy. It’s not huge, but at least it’s visible, and during this month I’ve gotten some real confidence boost and a proof that, while I may not be fluent just yet, I can already use the language fairly efficiently in writing, even if it requires a lot of effort and brain power.

You? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is the stupidest thing you’ve seen your pet do?

My answer:

I didn’t see it personally, only heard about it from Mum, but I think Misha’s record in the stupid category was one winter when Mum let him out for a little bit on the terrace, and then he climbed on the terrace roof, and from there on the house roof, as he loves to be as high as possible. There were magpies though, lots of them, or perhaps they were seagulls, I can’t remember now, we have a lot of both round here and they love to taunt both Jocky and Misha when they get a chance, and as Misha was high up there on the roof they were all behaving rather aggressively towards him, yelling at him and quite clearly wanting to scare or provoke him. Misha, despite his very fearful nature, is also a real idealist and romantic at heart, always dreaming of being a hero and breaking free out of here some day, becoming famous as the bravest and most valiant cat in history. So when he gets a chance to actually make his dream come true, in the first impulse, he tries his best, and, as we’d say in Polish, wants to conquer the Moon with a spade, that is do something which isn’t really possible for him to do given the abilities he has, or rather, doesn’t have. He wanted to deal with all those birds on his own and was really determined and extremely courageous, but every time he’d try go further up the roof, he’d fall back down where he was, together with a huge layer of snow that was lying there, meanwhile all the birds were yelling and laughing at him more and more frantically seeing his desperate attempts at showing them who’s the king. Finally I guess he ended up feeling too threatened by all the fuss they were making around him, and discouraged by all his vein attempts at getting closer to them, plus surely he must have been freezing, which is not something he’s used to to begin with and it was a really cold day, so, defeated, he turned away from the birds and came back to Mum who kept calling him all that time, both scared that Misha’s plan might end up being successful and really amused at the whole scene, which surely must have looked really funny when you were there. 😀

Thank God for the snow, and for the intimidating magpies/seagulls, or otherwise this would probably be a much less funny story, and probably filled with a lot more adrenaline for us, if not tragic. As it was, the worst thing that happened to Misha as a result was a but, albeit short, case of sneezes.

How about your pets? 🙂

Question of the day.

What was the last thing you said out loud?

My answer:

“Come back when you’ll make up your mind” to Misha about half an hour ago. He was crying very pitifully at my door, so I let him in and gave him something to eat. After that, he’ll usually go somewhere to sleep in here or want to have a cuddle with me or something. He clearly did not want any physical contact, as straight away after eating he fearfully dove under the bed so obviously I didn’t pressure him and went to do my thing. After a while, Misha found the courage to come out of there and climbed on the armchair in my room, which he does either to go on the windowsill and people/bird/Jocky-watch, or onto the wardrobe where he slips into a cartboard box on top of it where there is a quilt and a place for him to sleep which he’ll usually use when he’s particularly tired, scared, overwhelmed or fed up with the peeps and doesn’t want anyone to see him. However this time he just stood on the back of the armchair and seemed very undecided, as he very often is, especially when sleepy, and I’m pretty sure judging from his behaviour and the spectacularly pitiful cries that he was very sleepy. He stood like that some more and then started crying, so I came over to him to see what’s wrong but couldn’t figure what he wanted, and when I tried to pick him up he got scared and backed away immediately. I thought perhaps he wanted some assistance climbing up the wardrobe – sometimes he likes to play baby even though he’s obviously totally capable of doing it by himself, even more capable than with my help I’d say ’cause that wardrobe is quite a bit taller than me so it’s a bit of an unnecessary hassle putting him up there and I’m always a bit scared he’ll fall down when I do that or something, because I don’t really know when he’s standing steady on his paws up there and when I can leave him and there’s not a lot of space up there really, so it’s even safer for him to do it on his ownn I think. So I kept talking to him which sometimes stops him from crying, but he kept crying which started to annoy me as I didn’t know what to do with that and it’s not fun to have a roommate who is constantly moaning like that, so I just opened the door and told him what you already know, and he promptly left. As I said, I’m pretty sure he was very sleepy, and there are always troubles with Misha when he’s sleepy, he’ll be like barely able to stand or even sit and his eyes will close but he won’t settle and his whims as for where he’d like to sleep constantly change, or it looks like he’d sleep somewhere happily but something is wrong with it in his opinion so he won’t before we read his mind and fix what’s wrong. He’s generally very much a creature of habit and routine to the point where it gets ridiculous and absurd sometimes, but with those hundreds of sleeping places it’s totally mad and unpredictable. But as he hasn’t come back and I haven’t heard of him ever since anymore, I think he must have gone to his second most favourite bedroom at this time of the year and is probably sleeping in a basket on the radiator in the living room.

Your turn. 🙂

Question of the day (19th December).

What is the most uplifting thing happening in the world right now? What is the most tragic thing?

My answer:

This question is generally supposed to make you think deep, but at this very moment I myself don’t feel like thinking too deep, so I’ll tackle it from the egocentric and narrow point of view of my own little bubble. The most uplifting thing in the world to me is that there is Misha in it, and that he happens to be in my house and I can be with him everyday. Everything about Misha is uplifting. The most tragic thing – that it isn’t always going to be the case.

You? 🙂

Question of the day.

What makes you smile/happy? 🙂

My answer:

Misha often makes me smile. And Sofi. She has a great sense of humour and is just funny as she is. Misha also makes me happy, or at least happier for sure, Misha is like the embodiment of happiness for me. Being able to do things I like and that help my brain to recharge, like stuff with my languages, listening to music, reading something interesting or spending time in my Brainworld also always cheers me up.

What is it for 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? 🙂

Question of the day.

Is there a chore you really like doing?

My answer:

I like all the Mish-related chores that I am able to do. It’s like… it’s just so delightful to do something for Misha, whatever it is! I don’t even think I can call that chores because chores are sort of meant to be unpleasant I guess. They aren’t particularly interesting or fun but just the fact that I can do it for Misha is great, I wonder if people feel the same when they have a partner or kids and do something for them, I guess not typically. I love washing Misha’s bowls, changing his bedding, grooming him (though I believe I’m not quite as good at this as Mum is because he doesn’t like it as much when I do it, but this could also be because Mum is his main feeder so he has a special bond with her also where his hygiene is concerned), I love to give him food and also drink sometimes, though usually Mum gives him his water. I’d even love to deal with his litterbox but I still haven’t gotten around to getting that litterbox with filter that makes it easier to get rid of the poop. Sometimes I also brush his teeth but I’m too scared to do this on my own because he hates it anyway so I don’t want to make the experience even worse for him by doing it wrong so Sofi is the dentist’s assistant or she does it herself.

I also really like cleaning my gem stones. It takes time and is rather monotonous, because I have a whole lot of them, but at least I have a lot of time for thinking meanwhile. 😀 Or listening to music, or whatever. I just love caring for all of them and spending time with them.

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? 🙂