I thought it would be nice to have a page on my blog where my English speaking friends can read the English version of my articles. I have travelled a lot and most of them like my posts on Facebook. There is no translate button here on my blog so it is only polite to make this effort and have an English version of the articles I am about to write on my blog from now on.
Stories about my cats from Facebook
Since returning from Beijing, kittens have been a cute friendly presence in my life. Stories about them have attracted the sympathy of my Facebook audience. Later came the pandemic, isolation and I slowly went out to the public with my playing guitar live shows in the kitchen. I decided – on the advice of friends – to start writing more leisurely about my cats – the plan is to publish a book – with photos or graphics about kittens.
I rummaged through my Facebook posts about my cats and – many of them got lost. So I’m just going to look at the photos and write about the memories I have with them.
It all started with the Printesa (Princess). The white cat that followed my mother home when she was coming back from the market and, as a very polite person, my mother thought of luring her into the house and giving her something good to eat. A huge surprise when I heard about it because my whole childhood was sprinkled with tragedies in which my mother forbade us to raise cats and, if we stubbornly raised them anyway, she waited for the moment when we were gone and took them away from home.What a nice surprise to find out that in her old age she came to have an unexpectedly great love for cats.
Then follows the period of Printisor (Little Prince), the last kitten that remained in our house after the Princess made 5 kitten. Then I sterilized it.
The Printisor grew up and Bursucuța(Little Badger), his childhood girlfriend with whom he had 4 kitten, joined him. The Bursucuta left us. She lives arround in the wild and every now and then she comes to my door and I feed her. I cannot fore her back into the house if she wants to live outside. Now the last cats in my appartment are Printisor and his two girl kittens that remainedout of the 4 kitten: Gogoșica (Little Donut)and Săbiuța(Little Sword). They are the little ones now, they are almost 6 months old, fat, crazy, I melt after them. It’s a daily ritual to take them both in my arms and perform the dance with the cats (it’s not a proper dance, a few steps around the house with them in my arms , sticking my nose between them and sticking them to my cheeks) They are patient with me, aware of their charm but also because it is obvious that they like to sit in my arms and shake, looking around from height. Then I feed them and leave them alone. The Gogosica is not very affectionate but Sabiuta must be caressed in addition.She comes to me on the bed and puts her nose under the hand with which I handle the mouse of my laptop, letting me know that he wants to be comforted. And I take her a little longer in my arms, hug her and caress her head and she enjoys the moment with unparalleled tenderness. She’s a spoiled, fit princess, she doesn’t eat sachets or sausages at all. And it looks like a head cut with her Dad Printisor, white with gray spots. The Gogosica looks like the Printesa, her grandmother – just as soft when you take her in your arms. And her face looks like her Mother , Bursucuta. In fact, she copies her perfectly with a mute meow when he notices that something is bothering her. He simply says „Meow” without sound.
Yes. With this I start the stories about kittens – more or less current – I will make them in English for friends from other countries. And I’ll record a song in my kitchen from time to time – and I’ll upload it to Youtube. That maybe you want some music from the undersigned. Sweet kiss and have a wonderful week!
Good bye, Gogoshika
It is said that cats choose their own owners. If the baby cat dissappears you, it means it was not you the one she came into this life to serve, she needs to go to the owner she came here for ,it’s time to leave you. I mean the kitten you raise will disappear at some point. You are worried, you wil start scattering, you look for it, you would do anything to find it, to bring it back.
It’s been three days since Gogoshika left home. She had a kind of independent way, being the eldest of the kittens. Its first name was Ochișor (Little Eye). It was the first born kitten, the first to come to light, the first kitten that made eyes, the first kitten that ventured out of the wardrobe I placed the safehouse for their mother. She was leading Săbiuța Coviduț Prințesika, she was always the one with the playing ideas, the one having the initiative and her sister was following her, she was doing the same. I let them out to play – then, after I thought they had played and wandered arround enough, I would open the front door and they would both enter the door at once. It was a pleasure to see them do everything together and I couldn’t help but take them both in my arms.
For a while now, however, they were not really inseparable. I would let them out, but they wouldn’t both come backtogether at once like they used to. Săbiuța Coviduț was immediately at the door but not Gogoșica Ochișor. It was coming a couple of minutes later. And that kind of worried me, I couldn’t help but wonder where she’d been, what she’d been doing appart from her sister.
When she came home, she loved to be hugged and caressed. But she was not as affectionate as Săbiuța Coviduț Printzesika. Lately Gogoshika couldn’t stand to be in my arms together with Săbiuța, she was asking firmly to be left down from my arms. The last memory I have of her is her sitting in bed at my feet, watching me caress her sister who was desperately needin my to spoil and pet her. I think that was the moment when she decided to have a mistress only of her own because she can no longer bear not to be her and her alone the center of attention.
On the first night without Gogoshika, I suspected that my mother had taken her away from home. I still hoped to see her the next day but she didn’t come. And I know for sure that my mother didn’t take her home because she started asking more and more insistently „where is the other kitten”.
It also happens that a kitten disappears and reappears alone after a while. The strange thing is that today I woke up with Bursucuța, Gogoșica’s mother, at the kitchen window. She, who no longer wanted to enter the house now she was behaving just like she used to. Lately I had to put her food at the door and I had to walk carefully so as not to be scared and run away. But now, much to my surprise, now she came through the window and I could even caress her, take her in arms and take her to the bedroom where Săbiuța Coviduț slept. And this is exactly like last year when she was a good friend of Prințișor, Gogoshika and Printzesika ‘s Father. I hope she is coming back for good because winter is coming and I need to know she stays inside our home where she is kept safe and warn and well fed.
One cat leaves, another returns. Maybe Gogoșica is coming back, I lost her Father, Printzishor a couple of times, I was crying on Facebook that I was left without him, then I was also happy to post the news that he had returned home. Maybe it will be the same with Gogoshika, the big sister, the first born, the first who made eyes – I will never forget when I looked in the wardrobe for chickens and I saw Gogoshika looking with a wide eye open to me, shaking its head like little kittens do. I remember my shock , lying in my bed and noticing Gogoshika in the middle of the house after she escaped from the wardsobe, watched from a distance by her mother who left her without stress to discover the territory and experiment.
I will miss you, Gogoshika. Wherever you are, I will be very happy to see you again, as I am just as happy to sometimes see Printzesa , your Grandmother in front of the block. Be happy and have a mistress like me, eat just as well and love her as you loved me. I’ll wait for you for a while though. Because no matter how brave I am and no matter how much I claim to be ready to let the cats go for good, I still need time to get used to a place left empty. I’m in the period when I hope to see you again. That you only left me for a while and will be back at some point …
The Cats – Great Drama Teachers
I like to write about cats because it’s simply an acting exercise. In the first year of college, all kinds of games were played and we were given all kinds of homework. One would be to walk down the street and observe people. Another would be to observe an animal, to learn from its behaviour.
It is important to go out on the street and observe real, real people. Those you know may have read too many books, seen too many movies, and no longer have natural human reactions to stimuli. Any conversation with them is most often passed through the prism of a book read, you have the impression that you see a movie through them or you read a book through them. They are not aware of that either. I wonder what it’s like in a family of actors, both of them still act when they are at home, they no longer have natural human reactions, they are theatrical, they no longer cry to shed their pain but to impress with their tears. Maybe laughter is more natural if the joke is good, lively, tasty. But when you see a simple man on the street, you notice him and analyze him greedily. And you see how he looks, how he smiles, how he communicates. It’s harder with women, there are a lot of simple women infected by soap operas, by the “tragedy” in them. It’s no longer them who speak, it’s their heroines who fight for love, for wealth or God knows what other things incredibly valuable for the public.
Cats are perfect manipulators. And that expression „they have no mouth to speak” is as true as can be. I can believe that cats are former people, punished to be born cats and learn on their skin what it’s like to be a cat and how horrible it is to feel the hatred of people who hate cats but also how much love they can receive from those who, out of their fullness of soul, need to take care of and protect a cat. Maybe sometimes your cat may drive you crazy , there are days when you feel like throwing a slipper after them when it spoils your sweetest sleep – but most of the time their presence makes your day more beautiful and their affectionate way of being fill in your heart in a unique way that you don’t know what to replace with when they leave.
I raised a lot of cats. I also raised a dog. They filled my life in an absolutely wonderful way. But when they suddenly disappeared from my life, my pain was so vivid that without crying it was impossible to calm down and let it go. People also make me cry sometimes, but how I cried when a cat died or when my dog died – I didn’t cry after any human being. Maybe only after my Father. A human being makes you cry because he disappoints you. But the departure of a furry friend is the departure of an unconditional love. You don’t know how to handle that. I suspected at some point that the furry friend was taken away from me because God was jealous that I love the furry friend more than I loved Him.
So I make sure to balance my love for my cats. I greedily sink my nose into their fur, give them my love – but then immediately give them back their freedom. I don’t want to get too used to them. And I try to describe their reactions, to tell about what crazy things they have done before, so that they haven’t gone through my life without leaving a trace. I want to protect my heart, not to feel so much pain when they leave, and not to arouse the jealousy of the divinity for how much I can love them.
Sometimes their eyes are almost human. I take their meow as a human meow and my laughter snorts with how insistently it repeats something to me, I feel like my IQ dropped on the ground, I am like “what can I do, I don’t speak cat, I don’t understand what you want, you, Printzishor(Little Prince), or Sabiutza (Little Sword) , or my Gogoshika (Little Donut). But I let them go, I set them free. I take care of them but I do not suffocate them with my desire that they lived only for me. Letting them live outside is an unselfish choice, This the only way they can be real cats, in the open air, climbing, fighting, winning, losing. And from time to time they pass by my place where they can feed themselves with a bowl of home made cat food, let themselves be taken in my arms,be caressed for a while, then time’s up, they let you know they want you to put them down, then place themselves at the front door , asking to go out. And I let them go. I let them go. And I strive to be able to live without them. Because they will leave for good at some point. They’re all leaving. And never come back.
So they also teach me to understand that every moment is unique, that the present moment is the most important and that I have to love everything around me, every being, human or animal, to fully enjoy the moment I exist. And every time I love and caress them I do it as if it was for the last time, simply to be sure that if they were to leave my life, I ‘ve never missed a chance to let them know how much I love them and I couldn’t blame myself for not giving them enough love when they had been by my side.
I haven’t woken up at 5 in the morning like I used to do. And it’s weird. I should be glad. I’ve been having this habit of waking up very early in the morning since I’d arrived in Beijing at the Central Drama Academy. I used to wake up at 5 am without any effort, I didn’t even have to set my watch, I was eager to do my morning exercises, to be ready for a new day at the Central Academy of Drama.
I loved this institution enormously and I enjoyed every day, four months, I did everything that could be done even after I injured my knee. I was left with the aftermath of this accident, my left foot will never be the same. I knew very well that the 4-month period would end like a salami on which, no matter how thin you cut the slices, it would still be eaten up. So I decided to greedily enjoy every day, to take absolutely everything that is good from it, and obviously I could not wait to wake up in a new day and give everything that is best of me for our team to shine in that project.
My colleagues were set on a survival mode. They counted the days before returning home. They had a sick longing for polenta, beans or sarmale, they couldn’t stand the food in the academy canteen. They wanted to go home. I couldn’t understand them. Romania is not moving from the map, we will still find it exactly where we left it. And polenta, beans or sarmalele will not disappear into nothingness, we will find them on the table exactly as they were. “You will miss this place and even if you want it, it will be impossible to come back here”.
I remember going to the canteen. I looked at the dishes and pointed to what I was choosing to eat. I was happy to discover Chinese tastes, I remembered what I like, what I didn’t like and, obviously, the next day I would choose better, I chose the dishes better and I enjoyed every meal with all my heart.
The end of the 4-month period was approaching and my colleagues were beginning to agree with me. They were sorry they did not enjoy every day of those 4 months and then they thought regretfully that they would leave. At least I was happy I had enjoyed every day with pleasure – the problem was that I couldn’t come to terms with the idea that I had to leave, that I would wake up in the morning somewhere else other than in my dorm room.
Long after I returned to the country, I woke up at 5 in the morning and was learning Chinese to take the HSK 3 exam, which gave me the right to a scholarship in the same institution. But that scholarship period was a disappointment. I knew the flip side of the coin and every day of that year there was a kick in the ass, outside of China. I gave my best and was an example of seriousness, but every day of that year was meant to drain all my love for that institution and that country.
And yet it took a long time having the same habit of waking up at 5 am Maybe I’m finally free. I finally returned to normal and closed a chapter forever. There is, however, one being who is not too happy that I do not wake up easily at 5: Printzesika. It’s simple with the Printzishor, he has his own catfood, he feeds himself whenever it’s hungry then goes back to sleep. I have to feed the Printzesika – and it’s part of the morning ritual to take the plate prepared for it especially in the evening out of the fridge – and from which it eats without my help while I prepare the coffee and the laptop. But this morning I was lazy, I let out Printzishor and Printzesika for their morning play, but unlike my daily habit I went back to bed where I slept until daybreak. In the meantime, my mother probably let Printzesika back in, but she didn’t know that she had to take the plate out of the fridge and feed it.
I was lazy in a deep morning sleep. I half-opened my eyes and found that it was daylight. I tried to remember when was the last time I woke up so late, when Printzesika simply jumped on my belly, making me jump like a burnt, scared, shaken, really awake. Obviously it ran away eating the earth but he reached its goal. It was hungry, it waited for me from 5am to give it the plate with its special food, it even waited for me to open one eye and find that it was daylight but to wait for me and to bear to get out of bed it couldn’t wait any longer. Jumped on my belly, come on, lady, get up, take that damn plate out of the fridge, I’m starving.
Okay, Printzesika. Okay. I got out of bed, half cursing at the sudden awakening, half amused by her method of getting me out of bed to feed her. It’s a new day for my kitten. The Chrysanthemum was under the bed when I came into the living room. Their relationship did not evolve at all. Princess wants peace but Chrysanthemum can not forgive her the way it defended its territory and the pieces she took over her eyes a few mornings in a row instead of feeling well received by the one who ruled the territory when she came . There is still war, although the Printzesika wants peace. There’s another day tomorrow.