Tuesday, 14 July 2020

Stumbled onto a domestic zoo: Blog in the time of Corona


There is something that is not said enough on the news, but there has been a significant decrease of pop culture. Where are the new MCU releases? Where are new movie releases in general? Where are the new panel shows? And, I never thought I would say this, but what are the Kardashians up to (this was written a month ago, the Kardashians are currently running for office)? These might seem insignificant and pop culture might seem like a luxury unbefitting to our times, but some of us are actually resorting to exercise due to lack of pop culture. This cannot go on. Anyway, this is my way of saying that this post is once again more about everyday life and less about my recent demise into a Lin-Manuel Miranda wormhole. I blame a friend for that. She knows who she is.

Everyday life is now synonymous with animals. I am staying at my brother’s house and cohabiting with three huge cats and one huge dog. I have already mentioned Leyla on this blog, she is a loveable new foundland that weighs 40 kilos and looks like she weighs 60. Sounds like a crowded household? Add two kids under three years old to the mix. I will not be talking about the kids because at some point they will grow up, learn how to read and chase me down for having written this post. The animals, on the other hand, are a safer bet. I doubt Leyla will master reading any time soon.

Let me begin with our three friendly felines as they need proper introductions. The cats I have mentioned less on this blog, because I have been trying to avoid them, allergies and all. I have a mild allergy to cats, and I say mild because I would otherwise already be dead. Life would be easier if said cats had gotten the memo that they are indeed cats and not dogs. You know how cats are said to be dismissive and indifferent? Not these cats! These cats want love 24/7 and they are not afraid to ask for it. The one named ‘Little One’, who is anything but little, will meow and purr and climb on any limb of yours until he is sufficiently petted. We are still not sure what ‘sufficiently’ is, as we have certainly not reached that level yet. He is the kind of cat you nudge away, kick, and ghost but just doesn’t get the hint. Not to mention he considers the baby’s stroller his personal means of transportation. Little one is so clingy, we recently realised his own cat brothers are avoiding him. It is actually the only way to keep the rest of them away; stay close to Little one.

The second cat carries the original and imaginative name of ‘Little Grey One’. Mind you, these do sound better in Greek. At least this one is still grey.  Little grey one loves cuddles and jumping on your lap, but nothing tops his ultimate desire; the duvet. The forbidden duvet. As I mentioned, I am allergic to cats and until recently tried very hard to resist those little balls of fur, and in my attempt to keep on breathing, I have vouched to keep them away from my bedroom. A much failed attempt. I took measures straight away and starting locking the door when I was away. I realised soon enough that shutting the door won’t cut it, because, surprise, they can turn a handle just fine. But mistakes happen, doors are sometimes left unlocked. Little grey one has been frequently found in my bed swirling around, making sure to leave as many of his cat hair as possible on my duvet and pillow. However, I did once enter my unlocked room, finding the bed untouched, feeling sweet, sweet relief. Short lived relief. Little grey one meowed from within my suitcase, proud head popping up from a stack of socks and sundresses. Again, making sure he got his little grey hair all over my clothes. He left so much hair, vegans on the street would stop to ask if I was wearing cat fur and throw red paint on me. So I took further measures, I hung my clothes in the closet. All was well until one morning, in deep sleep, I felt something brush up against my foot. The ninja cat had silently opened the door as I was sleeping and climbed onto bed with me. I don’t know who jumped more abruptly, me or the cat. And yes, you have understood correctly, I am an adult woman terrorised by a cat.

The last cat is ginger, I am sure you are able to put the name together this time round, ‘Little Ginger One’. Little ginger one is very independent and a proper loner. He was the first one to brave the staircase, the first one to approach Leyla, whom he likes much better than his own brothers. I can’t say much for Little red one because he is so independent, I hardly know him. I have succumbed to petting him a couple of times, leaving me with disgusting red spots on my hands, but a warm feeling in my tummy. Stupid, adorable cat.

I was going to then talk about Leyla, the love of my life, but this blabbering of mine has gone on for too long and will continue next week. There are three main questions that arise from this post:

  •         Should I be worried that I dedicated a whole blog post to three cats at the age of 25?
  •         Should I get a life?
  •       Should I get more cats?  


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