I am not sure if I am bragging too early, but it seems like Pixie is a little fairy after all. Those who know me for a while, remember that I was not be touched by anyone. Last Summer I risked my life running away from Mom on the street when I thought it was not her who touched me. I ripped my harness off, tore Mom’s hands severely and ran home crossing two roads…
When someone would approach me with a kid, I would start shaking or roaring. If someone other than Mom would touch me, I could have hit with my paw or bite through the hand…
Now, having a stable life, Mom’s friend Kris living with us for almost a year now and Kleo with babies for over 4 months changed me, made me calmer and more confident. But having Pixie the Smiling kitten (Pixie Pie, Pixie the Sweet Paw, Pixie Crazy Pants, Pixie the Silver Mouse and so on and so forth) changed me so much Mom can barely recognize me.
I am old Mr. Grumpy, of course, and I am still a crazy Dragon baby, but I am much sweeter to Mom, my health is more stable and the most surprising thing is, I LOVE people now. Yes, yes, you heard me right. Every man/woman/kid I see outside of my apartment is my friend. I ran to a human to greet him and I smell him and bump him with my head and rub on his legs. Nothing will make me happier if a neighbor lets me in to his home to explore…Happy days like this I cherish. Last week Mom was shocked when a lady that came to see someone in our block lifted me up thinking I am running away from Mom and guess what I did? I purred to her!!! Well, to make a long story short, look at the pics. This is me being held by Mom’s friend Kris, who has been living with us for 8 months before I let her touch me for the first time.
Now she is even aloud to pet me and hold me from time to time. I sat on her lap recently so she could rub my face…Mom never thought it was possible. Now she is daring to dream that Pixie and I will become cuddle buddies one day!
Do you agree that Pixie has magic in her?
How often are you filled with doubts? I am fighting them all the time, but they are still taking over. Yesterday Pixie decided to run up Mom’s back for no reason. Mom jumped up, yelling…she says she is in pain and asked me to explain to Pixie that she shouldn’t do it again. I watched her carefully, came closer and froze hesitantly. Then I reached Mom’s foot and bit her so she wouldn’t put her parental responsibility on me! I am a fun brother to Pixie and not her second parent!
Tonight I was in doubts again when Mom woke up at night and caressed me gently…I was considering going back too sleep, but then I bit and bunny hopped Mom’s hand and demanded her to take me out at 2 a.m. Yep! I felt like having a walk! Mom’s problems that she had to wake up at 6 and go to work… her first and most important job is to take care of me, right? But she didn’t go out. She tried to hide under the pillow from me…One and a half hour later I gave up and left her alone. But I had some fun in the process 😸😸😸 why being a cat if you don’t have a little fun every day?)
Life is a series of new experience: even the same action we perform daily is slightly different each time. What we learn forms us, but we are lucky enough to have a choice – we can choose what we learn, because we can choose what we see in life.
Who do you choose to be? What life do you choose to live? Are you happy or not where you are?
Taking responsibility for your actions, life and happiness is not easy, blaming the rest of the world is much simpler. But the day you step up for yourself will change your life forever. Maybe today is the day to finally do this?
P.S. The most difficult part of is that you have to make this choice every day for it to work. Right?
Love love love! Love is everywhere even if we do not feel it or see it sometimes…
I found out that giving love is the best way to feel it yourself. I found out that in the moments of doubt, someone is always there for you. Maybe not the ones you expected to be, maybe those who you least expect to be, maybe someone you barely know, but we are never truly alone if we don’t want to be alone.
Love is the main force of the Universe: not laziness, not greed, not money or pleasure, love. It moved mountains countless time!
So share your love today with someone: with your family, friends, a pet or a neighbor. Love is the only thing that grows while being shared with others.
May the Love be with you, my friends!
And Happy Valentine’s day to you!
Mornings are for kisses. Did you know that? I bet you did. But my little sister Pixie ignores this rule as much as she can!
The first thing I do when I wake up is always…well, sometimes I go to pee, but the first things after that are definately massage and kisses. I sing a love song to Mom, she massages me and rubs my face and tells me that I am the most beautiful boy in the World and she loves me more than anyone (her tune has changed a bit since we have Pixie. Now she is adding that this little terrorist is the most beautiful girl in the World, can you believe it???).
And right when I am feeling like I am the happiest catman in the world, Pixie attacks!! She jumps on me, hugs my neck with her tiny paws and plunge her tiny razor teeth into my shoulder! Or she dances around my delicate butt like a crazy monkey biting or hitting me with every round.
Mom tries to give her a massage too and she tries to pet Pixie and explain her that morning is a time to greet the World and express love, but she squeaks back and runs away in a wacky way!
What are your mornings for? Kisses or crazies?
Pixie is a terrorist! What? You don’t believe me? You say she is too cute for that? You know, her cuteness helps her get away with many things, but it does not prevent her from being a real menace to your life. Well, not your life, probably, but mine for sure.
See how she changed my daily routine already:
– we wake up when Pixie wakes up;
– she gets her pre-breakfast dairy snack first before we get our breakfast;
– she demands to go out with us, destroying our private play time that we had with Mom;
– she won’t let me nap as much as I want during the day. She just jumps inside my warm house and bite me everywhere forcing me to go out and then she jumps at me and bite my neck and ears making me start our chasing game;
– she catches everything Mom throws right away and won’t let me prepare for the attack, thus ruining all my fetching games with Mom;
– she won’t let Mom go to sleep in the evening by jumping at me so I would chase her around. We have our crazy chase games at midnight every day now. We run around Mom’s bed, jumping at her all the time. Mom has to hide under the pillow to try to sleep!
– by disrupting my daytime naps and by not letting me go to sleep with Mom in the evening, she makes me grumpy and irritable and I demand more walks and attention from Mom now.
So, now you see that Pixie is a cute terrorist, driving Mom and me mad? What do you say? We should be more strict with her? Oh, Mom tried sometimes, when she goes too crazy or too late, but it doesn’t really help. And have you seen her happy smiling face? We forgive and forget everything the moment this little daemon turns into a cute kitten again.
Cuteness is a dangerous weapon!
Our small family of three makes a circle. We follow one another all the time. Since I was a kitten, I needed to be everywhere where Mom was and Pixie is the same for some reason. Even when while Kleo and other kittens were here, Pixie chose to follow Mom and stay in our room most of the time. Even being squeezed by the door (Mom didn’t see her, Pixie was too fast and Mom didn’t have enough sleep for weeks then) didn’t stop her. And now she follows me or Mom around everywhere.
Our morning starts with Mom going to the bathroom and both of us following her there. Pixie needs to sit in Mom’s arms or play around and I need to show Mom how much I love her and wait for my morning massage. Then Mom goes to the kitchen and we are there too: Pixie is asking for some diary before the breakfast and I am reminding Mom it is time to take me out. I won’t eat my chicken if I had no walk first.
Then, when we go for our naps after a playtime (in which Mom HAS to take part, of course), we always stay close to Mom. I need to open my eyes and see her, that’s why I like my warm house on her desk so much. And Pixie is trying to nap on Mom’s lap, on her laptop, on the desk in front of the laptop, near my house, in her house close to mine and on her upper bunk of our new bunk bed (which I do not use. It’s a girlish thing!).
Every time Mom goes away, we try to stop her, Pixie is even getting into her bag to show she is ready to go out with her, though she is afraid even being out the apartment for now. When Mom takes me out and we both leave Pixie, she starts yelling like crazy and tries to open the door to be with us. So Mom is forces to carry Pix around with us when I am having my in-building walks.
And no matter where we fall asleep in the evening, we would come to sleep with Mom during the night. We are the guardians of her dreams: I sleep in her feet and Pixie is near the pillow. We keep Mom safe, when she is resting after keeping us safe and happy all day.
One would expect that after spending three years together and sharing so many adventures, his own mother would learn a thing or two about him? Well, maybe Mom did learn a couple of things after all, but I guess she is just not smart enough to understand me completely.
What? You shake your heads in disagreement? You think she knows each and every hair in my coat and all of my face expressions?
Maybe. Not too much brain needed for that. But she still can’t figure out where I hide balls from her. Balls are my favorite toys, maybe even most favorite of all. And I have several of them on my paws all the time. Mom gives them to me to play 2-3 at a time. And we play with them for a while, then I hide them: under the sofa, under the wardrobe, under the fridge, behind the toilet, between the detergent and the packet of Pixie’s litter…
Mom figured out the most used places, of course, but sometimes I like to watch her look for a ball for days. I hide it and then giggle following her around the apartment while she is checking every dark corner. When I get bored of this game, I would bring the ball to Mom myself and put it right before her, so she would have no doubts that I knew where it was all this time.
Do you agree now that I am the mastermind in our family?
Mom gave me many different names: Angry Crocodile, Tiny, Jerboa, Meerkat, Dragonozaur, a thorn, the crooked tail, the black gold, sweet boy, good boy, smart boy, mr. Grumpy, wet/dirty paws, little monkey, treasure, Dracocat, sharp-clawed paws, tiny psyco, son…but my Grandparents call me blackie, Ros or a diamond boy to highlight how much all the family invested in me so I could survive.
When Mom adopted me, we lived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The closest vet doctor was in the capital of the Country of the Red Dust – Siam Reap. It was 8 hours by bus in which pets were not allowed. Mom had to hide me all the way or argue with the driver so he’d let us in. All those trips and vet expenses and the drugs that my grandparents were sending us monthly (most of what I needed could not be found in Cambodia or even Thailand)… No one really counted how much everything cost, well, maybe my granddad did. But my humans has to create a whole medicine supply chain for me: my grandparents had to find a person to take them from Russia to Thailand and Mom asked her former colleagues to take them to Cambodia or went there to pick them herself.
Imagine the disappointment of my grandparents finally met their diamond boy and had no chance to even touch me.