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storytelling ~ the cat


winter girl

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i just wanted to do a little storytelling for you guys, because i know how hard it is to get your mind off of your acne. I also want to use this blog to do something other than whine about myself. I feel better when i write, and if i can make someone else feel better,  by making them laugh, or just by helping them not focus on whatever is making them sad, that would make me feel really happy.

 

im just going to start talking about some warm memories of mine. most of them were from my childhood. like, going to romania every summer. i love my grandma and her house there. growing up we had this light orange tabby cat, we never had a name for her, it was only until she turned like 4 or 5 that we started calling her "baba" which means old lady in romanian. that cat was so chill. like, me and my sister loved her so much and we were so annoying about it. we would dress her up and dance with her and always put her in our laps to pet her when i think she just wanted to be alone. but she dealt with all of it, she never scratched or bit us, even though we only visited once a year she still remembered us. and in rural romania, cats are different, cats arent domesticated or given collars or even claimed. there are just stray cats, who come and go as they please to whichever house they like the best. and our cat, baba, was like that. we found her on the side of a river when she was a small kitten. and through the years she stayed with us at that house a lot, also making two to four kittens every year or so. my grandma would take care of all the kittens, and so would we when we were lucky enough to visit while they were there. my grandma has been alone for most of her life, and her sisters who live near her are also alone and widows. so instead of neglecting kittens, as most people in romania do, she would give them to her sisters to keep them company. baba died when she was about 8 years old, my grandma doesnt know how she died. she just said she left one morning and didnt come back. 

 

i recall a particular interesting event concerning miss baba. in romania, people are very, um... how do i put this... rustic? so my uncle was staying with us in my grandmas house one summer and baba never ate my grandma's chickens or their chicks, she was a very behaved cat. but this one summer, baba had four kittens, which is the most she's ever had. probably a motherly survival instinct kicked in and she wanted to feed her kittens. so that day me and my sister were in the courtyard under the grapevine when baba ran up to a little chick and snatched it in her mouth. immediately, my uncle, who was on a nearby chair, leaped up and chased her down in the garden. everyone was watching in amazement as he caught her, took the chick from her mouth (who magically was unharmed) and walked back with her toward us. he was holding her very tightly, cursing at her, and she was wriggling around. i felt very sad to see her like that. then, my uncle went into the basement and put her in an empty potato sack and tied it up. i thought about untying it and letting her go free that night, but i was afraid of my uncle, he was an intense man. so the next morning, my uncle lifted the wriggling potato sack over his shoulder and put it in the trunk of his car. he drove away. me and my sister were clearly very upset, but we were both so young , we felt hopeless to this decision. half an hour later, my uncle returned with an empty potato sack and the rest of our day resumed. 

the next day, me and my sister were playing in the courtyard, when we saw a little orange figure hop up over the gate. it was baba! insane, right? to this day, we always talk about this incident, how my uncle drove baba to the nearest town which was about 15 minutes and 5 miles away, dropped her off in the street of that town, and drove away. and baba magically returned by herself the next day, walking with a beautiful kind of smugness ill never forget. like, she was in the trunk of his car, in a potato sack! how in the world did she find her way home?! and the best part is the following year, when she did something bad again, my uncle did the same thing, and baba returned the next day, on time, ready for her photoshoot and interview. she was truly, a one of a kind, invincible, bad b*tch. and i will always love her. 

 

 

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