It's a good thing I have this public forum to let fly.
I moved to the other guesthouse when I got back from Italy, the same time two cat litters were sent to a country home. I don't know if that's a euphemism. This house is built around a courtyard. Solid pavers and cement with rooms around the perimeter, and in the middle a small rose garden with a cherry tree. It had begun to reek of cat pee and that wasn't working. Also, there's no way to neuter pets in this city and the population was getting out of hand. Of my four housemates, one loves cats, one liked a certain tiger-stripey kitten of the litter, one didn't care, and one was responsible for the "country home." And there's me, who likes cats a lot but doesn't love every cat. Mainly I have just loved two cats in my life.
About three weeks after the pets moved out, we heard rumors of a kitten. And then, she emerged from the nasty basement, the tiger-stripey one. I haven't seen this done before, but she was tamed in one night. No hissing, she was caught once, purred once, and then she loved people. For the last two weeks we all enjoyed her bouncing around. She would get really riled up at night as everyone sat around the garden outside. Even the hard old one who deported the rest of her family couldn't stop playing with her. My boss, the one who loves cats, named her Oshka.
We spent last Friday night giving her a bath and she didn't hate it. She was naughty and jumped with all claws onto the Russian teacher's back one day, and came in and peed on my bedspread, no lie, but she is set to grow into a lovely cat. One of the watchmen agreed in two weeks he will give her to his niece.
But you remember that bug problem we have? Someone enterprising in the logistics department decided the kitten was responsible for the 80 bug bites my colleague and I have between us, though the cat wasn't allowed in our rooms. So they killed her on Monday. She's gone. No one asked.
Who kills kittens? Oshka was no Percy, but I was so depressed on Tuesday.
And in the meantime two families of swallows have built their mud nests in the entryway. The babies hatched about a week ago. There has been lots of split-tailed zeal as the parents dart around and the babies poke their ugly little heads out. I thought cynically on Tuesday, at the mechanic responsible for the kitten, "We have some baby birds at the house if you want to come kill them too."
Tonight, one of the nests is gone. The parents are frantic, flying around in circles and squawking. The nest was above one of our Land Cruisers and I guess the bird poop was just unacceptable (EDIT: or maybe it just fell). So there you have it. I'm sure some big extrapolation on the value of life, or the inappropriate role of pets in American's lives, etc., could be made from this. In the meantime, I'm trying to stay angry so I don't cry.
I moved to the other guesthouse when I got back from Italy, the same time two cat litters were sent to a country home. I don't know if that's a euphemism. This house is built around a courtyard. Solid pavers and cement with rooms around the perimeter, and in the middle a small rose garden with a cherry tree. It had begun to reek of cat pee and that wasn't working. Also, there's no way to neuter pets in this city and the population was getting out of hand. Of my four housemates, one loves cats, one liked a certain tiger-stripey kitten of the litter, one didn't care, and one was responsible for the "country home." And there's me, who likes cats a lot but doesn't love every cat. Mainly I have just loved two cats in my life.
About three weeks after the pets moved out, we heard rumors of a kitten. And then, she emerged from the nasty basement, the tiger-stripey one. I haven't seen this done before, but she was tamed in one night. No hissing, she was caught once, purred once, and then she loved people. For the last two weeks we all enjoyed her bouncing around. She would get really riled up at night as everyone sat around the garden outside. Even the hard old one who deported the rest of her family couldn't stop playing with her. My boss, the one who loves cats, named her Oshka.
We spent last Friday night giving her a bath and she didn't hate it. She was naughty and jumped with all claws onto the Russian teacher's back one day, and came in and peed on my bedspread, no lie, but she is set to grow into a lovely cat. One of the watchmen agreed in two weeks he will give her to his niece.
But you remember that bug problem we have? Someone enterprising in the logistics department decided the kitten was responsible for the 80 bug bites my colleague and I have between us, though the cat wasn't allowed in our rooms. So they killed her on Monday. She's gone. No one asked.
Who kills kittens? Oshka was no Percy, but I was so depressed on Tuesday.
And in the meantime two families of swallows have built their mud nests in the entryway. The babies hatched about a week ago. There has been lots of split-tailed zeal as the parents dart around and the babies poke their ugly little heads out. I thought cynically on Tuesday, at the mechanic responsible for the kitten, "We have some baby birds at the house if you want to come kill them too."
Tonight, one of the nests is gone. The parents are frantic, flying around in circles and squawking. The nest was above one of our Land Cruisers and I guess the bird poop was just unacceptable (EDIT: or maybe it just fell). So there you have it. I'm sure some big extrapolation on the value of life, or the inappropriate role of pets in American's lives, etc., could be made from this. In the meantime, I'm trying to stay angry so I don't cry.
4 comments:
Oh, sweet Hannah! I am so sorry.
This makes me really sad and angry... Senseless. I hope you can find something to focus on to get your mind off of it.
Oh, my. How life hurts sometimes.
You were the one with the bites.... they should have let you decide. That's a shame....
Love,
Mother
P.S. We have sweet Flannery waiting for you!
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