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.

What are three things that make you happy instantly?

My answer:

I don’t know if these things always make me as much as happy and instantly, but they definitely do make me happier and are very effective at it.

Misha’s presence, listening to good music, and, most recently, playing BitLife. 😀

You? 🙂

Question of the day.

If you died today, what regrets would you have about your life?

My answer:

If I died, I don’t think I’d have any regrets afterwards, because I think our perspective on things must change quite a lot when that happens. As a Christian and Catholic, the only thing I can think of that I could really regret after death would be any sins that I didn’t do anything about in my lifetime, didn’t confess or regret them earlier or expiate for them or didn’t apologise to people who might have been affected or didn’t try to compensate them in any way, maybe even didn’t accept that I was sinning, as well as good things I didn’t do that could have helped my soul grow and be somehow beneficial for others around me. Which would mean I wouldn’t be able to enjoy being in God’s presence until my soul would be cleansed of all that yucky stuff in the purgatory, and purgatory souls do suffer a lot, not because they are somehow tortured in exquisite ways as some people imagine purgatory, but because they are separated from God, and they have a deep longing to be near Him but at the same time don’t want that to happen any sooner than when they are completely pure. Must be a strange state of being to find oneself in, when the whole perspective in which you look at yourself, the world and everything is no longer the same which you had when you were alive, but you see everything the way God does. I find it difficult on a cognitive level and as it seems it’s not just me. Anyway, since I’m still alive, I do try my best to do what I can not to have such regrets afterwards, although of course we are all flawed, make mistakes and all that, so we all will have some regrets of this nature when our time comes, I believe. Helping and devotion to purgatory souls is quite a thing, you could perhaps say a tradition, in my maternal family, as my great grandma had very close contact with and apparitions of them from what we know and she passed her passion for helping them onto her children, and it’s still alive. I have a fair few souls that are dear to me and whom I try to help by praying for them and offering up what I can, so that in case they are in purgatory, they can be released possibly soon, and I trust that when it’ll be my time to die, they will be there to help me too, I already do feel their help in some ways in life.

As for what I’d regret at the time I was dying or knowing that I’m going to die soon… I don’t really know what I would regret. Probably also those thoughts of spiritual nature would pass through my mind so I’d try to prepare my soul for death, but other than that… I’m thinking hard now and I have no idea at this point, so it’s possible that there wouldn’t be anything more. Oh wait, there is one thing! This is a thing that I already regret and have been regretting ever since it happened, and so I may be regretting it forever in this life, because it was really awful. It wasn’t even really my fault or my decision but I was involved in it anyway, I witnessed it and sometimes I wonder if I could stop it in time and it was so sad I haven’t fully gotten over it yet. I regret that it had to happen, the whole thing. I’m talking about Sasha – a Russian blue kitten we bought I guess two years ago, and had to rehome after two months. Some of you who have been around on here then may remember him, there even are some pics/videos of him on this blog I believe.

My Mum – who is famous for impulsive decisions on the spur of a moment – was thinking about getting another Russian blue cat, in addition to Misha whom we already had. We were all thinking that Misha was feeling lonely when we weren’t home, or even when we were. That perhaps he needed a playmate. It really blows my mind how we could be so daft, but now I’ve read lots of things about feline behaviours and brains so it’s easy to say to me that it was daft, but it really was. I liked a comparison I’ve read at one cat behaviourist’s blog – imagine you have a very loving partner, whom you love to, and who really admires you and thinks you’re beautiful. And one day he/she comes home and says: “Oh look, I was thinking you were so beautiful, that I decided to get myself another one, just like you. Now I’ll have two real beauties/handsome guys to sleep with. And you guys will be having real fun times with each other too, won’t you? You won’t mind sharing the same rooms?” 😀 Rude and selfish, right?

The more we all talked about it, the more Mum looked at Russian blues breeders’ websites and pics of Russian blue kittens, the more we felt like having a mini copy of Misha in our house.

And finally Mum learned that the breeder from whom we got Misha is going to have little kittens super soon, in the matter of days, I mean of course his cats were going to have them, not he. So Mum called him right away and he said that one is still free so she can take it when it’s born.

I did think it was really rushed and had mixed feelings, although mostly also for selfish reasons – because I thought Misha will spend more time with this other cat than with me/us and will no longer sleep with me – yet the perspective of having two Mishas was so pleasing that I couldn’t oppose for too long, and Mum’s arguments were very convincing as she was very sure of her decision and thought it an inspiration from God. I wonder what God was thinking of this accusation.

Whenever the topic of Sasha comes up now, I wonder, if I tried more to stop her from doing it so hurriedly, would it make the situation any better? Maybe if I tried, I would manage to change her mind, or at least cool her head off enough that the whole procedure of introducing a new cat would be better planned, not just: “Misha, this is Sasha and he’s going to be your new best friend from now on, deal with it if it doesn’t suit you”. Because when Sasha came it was nothing what it should be like and even the breeder, when he learned about the failure of the experiment, was shocked and kept saying that he did tell us how we should introduce them to each other, that it should be a gradual thing and all that. Maybe then at least they could live together in relative peace.

But it was as it was, and a few days later, Mum and Sofi went to the breeder and took Sasha home, and Sofi almost immediately brought him to Misha. Misha got super mad so that me and Sofi were scared, and Mum even accused him of being mentally ill because he can’t just react in a normal way to any change, even a positive one. 😀 He hid under the sofa and hissed and made such low noises all night. Good thing that at least Sasha had a bit different temperament, or very different in fact.

He was super cuddly, bold, happy-go-lucky and very extroverted. We were laughing with Sofi that just like Misha has his birthday two days before me and we are both incredibly similar to each other, Sasha was born just a few days after Sofi’s birthday and, like her, was a typical Gemini and very much like her. His outgoing personality and cuddliness made him even more likeable.

In the coming days, we saw very little of Misha, he was usually either hiding, or chasing and scaring Sasha, letting him know that it’s his – Misha’s – house, and Sasha has nothing to do in here. At some point, from what we’d managed to figure out, he must have scared him in the loo, HIS very private loo, because Sasha had a deep fear of doing his thing in the litterbox, but until we figured out what was the problem with the help of a behaviourist we were thinking he was just doing it on purpose for some reason, because there was no way to persuade him to do it in the right place and we had poo surprises everywhere from bathtub to wardrobes to pillowcases, which didn’t make the atmosphere any better as you can imagine.

Sometimes we stupid humans were treated to a special performance by Misha and Sasha implying that they are very good friends, so that’s what we liked to believe in.

Finally the loo situation was getting really out of control, unhealthy emotions were rising, everyone was stressed out and tired, Mum was near depressed, blaming herself, or being angry at Misha for being “antisocial” or Sasha for pooping, I was blaming Sasha for everything because if not him, Misha wouldn’t be going crazy and the whole situation wouldn’t have taken place, so I wasn’t treating him as nicely as Misha even though he was clinging to me as much as everyone else, and then after five minutes I would be very nice to him because he was so cute, after all, that you couldn’t resist for too long. He must have been super confused I guess. The culmination was that they both got sick. The vet said that there isn’t anything wrong with either of them physically, but they had high fever and other awful symptoms, Misha was throwing up with some gross, foamy stuff, Sasha was barely in touch with the world, so he said it must be stress and, after being told the story with minute details, he said it can’t go on like this and said they could even die if it would be dragging for too long. So we finally saw this too and started doing something about it.

We had to rehome Sasha, which was a great pain for our selfish brains. But at least he had real luck with his new family, or so I like to think. They’re very interesting, artistically inclined people, and months later I learned that Sasha’s new mummy is actually a children’s writer whose books I used to read, what a cool coincidence!

So the situation generally had a happy ending, although I can only hope that Sasha doesn’t have any bad memories or anything like that and that he has a better life now, but still… this situation would be so easy to prevent, or make it take a slightly different route. That’s why I regret it. I regret that Sasha couldn’t have a happy childhood right away, and that it had to be us with whom he had such a difficult start. I regret what we did to Misha, that we betrayed him in a way, as Mum says. Even though Misha seems like the biggest monster in this situation because if not his “antisocial” behaviour, we could have two cats, in fact, after Sasha left, we all only fully realised how virtuous Misha has actually been all that time. He forgave us what we did. He recovered and keeps being the sweet, good-natured Misha for us. Even while Sasha was with us, we did see much less of him but when we saw him, he was never aggressive to us and was very tolerant of all our whims at that time. Mum says he has a very noble spirit, and I think that describes him very well.

Okay, so how about you? 🙂

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? 🙂

My Inner Mishmash Readership Award #2! And the winners are… *don’t read if you got a pingback and like surprises* :D

Hi all you lovely people you! 🙂

Phew, it’s been quite an intense week! I know it’s super late compared to last year and am very sorry for that, but finally, it’s time to reveal this year’s winners of

My Inner Mishmash Readership Award!

My Inner Mishmash Readership Award (or MIMRA for short) is an idea that I came up with last year, where each year, around Christmas, I award three of my

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 for all of us, pre Christmas. Of course I do appreciate every single reader of my blog and am so happy for all of you who are stopping by, but quite obviously I can’t award everyone who visits my blog, so in a way this is also a more symbolic way of appreciating all of my readers.

So, without further ado, I am exxxtremely exxxcited to announce that the winners of this year’s My Inner Mishmash Readership Award are… *applause, drumrolls, fanfares, confetti etc.*

Meg of Where Good Advice Happens,

(and this is her second MIMRA)

Ashley Leia of Mental Health @ Home

(and this is her second MIMRA as well)

and

Astrid and her whole system Astridetal of A Multitude of Musings

.

Meg and Ashley are literally as lucky as they can be, because you can only win MIMRA twice in a row! Although Sofi is trying to convince me that it should be thrice, so… I don’t know… we’ll see next year I guess. But you can lemme know what you think of this idea if you want.

Thank you so very much to all of you, the winners, for being such engaged readers of My Inner Mishmash, such great supporters of Misha and me and such cool people overall! And thank you to all of my regular readers for all their extremely valuable input! 🙂 And HUGE thanks to my Mum for helping me with this whole thing, brainstorming ideas with me, designing the cards etc. because it just wouldn’t work out without her! 🙂 Last, but by no means least, thanks to Sofi, thanks to whom there are some pics with this post that you can enjoy. Sofi has made some of them and then today has helped me a lot with selecting the photos for this post and captioning them. After she captioned them, somehow I lost or couldn’t find her very descriptive captions after transferring the photos

This MIMRA has just been sent out and I had no clue which photo was which and got really annoyed and was about to give up on the whole photo thing, but eventually Sofi helped me once again change their names to something more descriptive than img0185 so that I knew what I was posting, lol, and do alt texts properly. All that despite she’s having a really awful day today because she’s sick.

I sincerely hope it’ll arrive to people at least very shortly before Christmas, but since I sent it out almost a whole month later than I did last year (guess I’ll have to start the preparations in August rather than in September next year 😀 ) because of the delay with the cards company and some things that have been going on for me personally as well as for my Mum, and since the mail in many countries is overloaded due to Covid and people ordering a lot of stuff online, at least from what I’ve been hearing, it’s possible that, if that’s the case with the mail in your country, you may need to wait for your MIMRA a bit longer than that. Even without such complications, I remember that last year’s MIMRA for Meg was going very slow, but that’s probably because our mail here always tends to be slow with foreign mail for some reasoon, at least in my experience. 😀

As a compensation, the MIMRA packages this year have a bit more content than the year before, but to be honest it wasn’t really even planned. Here are some pics (but with the MIMRA boxes closed, so you can’t take a peek in this year, ha, ha, more details about the content later)

Misha is sitting on the stack of grey MIMRA cartboard boxes which are next to my wardrobe. He is looking at you.

Misha sitting on the MIMRA boxes, which are decorated with three Christmas baubles from Sofi's tree, one bauble is grey and the other two are white.

And here’s a little bonus for all of you who like to look at Misha and often ask me about his pics, just because I had one more at hand and because it’s a special, exceptional day when images are being posted on this blog, lol, though it’s unrelated to the award itself.

Misha stretched out on the sheep skin on my bed.

I won’t be telling you what’s exactly in the MIMRAs, I myself am not a huge enthusiast of surprises but I figure most people do like them, but to give you a bit of an idea, there are some Polish edible goodies in there. My goal with MIMRA is to introduce people to new, yummy things that are only a thing in Poland, because I think it’s fun to see how each country has its own candy and stuff. And we generally have a lot of yummy food here. Only it’s so universalised these days (plus I myself haven’t been abroad much which may be an important factor here as well) that sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s Polish and what’s just somehow adapted or something. Last year’s MIMRA winners may remember that one of the things in the award package were biscuits with chocolate and jelly which are called Delicje over here. I was absolutely convinced they are a Polish thing, until last year’s MIMRA winner

Carol Anne of Therapy Bits, and some of the littles in her system,

enlightened me that they are also in Ireland, under the name of Jaffa Cakes, and they do appear to be in many other countries as well! So this year I did a bit more research and hopefully these things are actually exclusively Polish, or at least you haven’t tried them before, but even more importantly that you will like them. However Meg told me that she really enjoyed these Jaffa Cakes and she can’t get them anywhere and would like them in the MIMRA again. I originally didn’t plan it to be so, but because I found something that I thought could be a fun thing for Ashley and Astrid but maybe not necessarily for Meg, she did get a package of them eventually. Ashley and Astrid have something else instead. I’ll just say that it’s something to have a bath with, and I remembered that Meg can’t have baths with such bath products so I think it’s fair enough.

I hope you guys will like your MIMRAs and enjoy them at least as much as I did making them, and that they’ll bring some happiness to you for the Christmas time. 🙂

 

Question of the day.

What are you planning?

My answer:

Well, just like I wrote yesterday, my plans for the near future right now are mostly evolving around MIMRA. In even nearer future, I am planning to take Misha to the vet, because he’s due for deworming, but I don’t know when exactly that’ll happen, it must be also a good time for Sofi because she wants to take Jocky to the vet as well. Beyond that though, I’m not really planning a lot at the moment.

How about you? 🙂

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? 🙂

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? 🙂

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. 🙂