The Fire that Forges

Is there the exact moment when you fall in love? Is it a smile? Is it a smell? Is it a word said? For my Mom is was the moment she realized she is a Mom to me. That the first thing I do when I wake up, I call her; that when I am scared I need her; that when I am in pain I ran to her. She saw that she was the center of my tiny universe and, being a responsibility freak, she just couldn’t let me down and let herself fill with this overwhelming unconditional love a mother have for her child.
She says she had dogs and cats before and she loved them dearly, but those fires we went through together forged something new from us, something unique. She calls me her son openly and even my grandparents still wince at it. Being her son at day, I am the guardian of her dreams at night. We are inseparable except for one thing: money. Still don’t understand why Mom can’t stay with me or take me with her to her office every day? Is money the most powerful thing in the world?

Life is a pretzel

My life has been crooked from the start.

Born in the country of the red dust and absent pets, where cats’ and dogs’ best option is to be allowed to live near the house and be fed with what’s left after people. Abandoned by my cat-mother the day I was born, found by this crazy person I call Mom. Traveled in circles between Siem Reap, Phnom Penh and Pattaya. Got sick, fell down, got bitten and got sick sick sick again. Traveled across the world, teaching Mom not to be afraid of flying. Conquered the snows of Siberia and earned IG friends from all around the world with my fiery nature.

My life looks more like a pretzel, than a line from A to B to C.
Mom says she wants to straighten our life. But what does it mean? To know what awaits you tomorrow? To have everything planned? To have no reason to be afraid of a new month coming? Or to wake up with a smile on your face?
Well, Pixie and I are in charge of her smiles, so she always has plenty in stock. What else could she want? You don’t think she meant me to straighten my tail, do you?

That reminds me of a song Pixie and I created some time ago.

Ros:

My tail’s not bushy,

My tail’s not long

My tail’s not what you want to hold on!

 

My tail is crooked

A-aha

My tail is crooked

A-aha,

My tail is crooked!

 

Pixie:

My tail my tail my tail my tail.

My tail my tail my tail my tail.

 

Ros:

My tail is my feature,

My tail is my pride,

Touch my tail and I’ll beat ya, it’s only for my bride.

 

My tail is crooked

A-aha

My tail is crooked

A-aha,

My tail is crooked!

 

Pixie:

My tail my tail my tail my tail.

My tail my tail my tail my tail.

Doubts

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?)

My Mom is stupid

 

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?

My trust issues

Mom says my grandparents love me very much. They helped us greatly while we were in Cambodia and Thailand. They’ve been sending us loads of medicine every month. And they are helping us now too. Especially Grandpa. You know, I like him, but do not trust him, because he doesn’t understand me. He treats me as if I am a silly puppy and he expects me to be happy about it. He was visiting a lot while helping us with renovation works and I got used to him. Every time he comes, I will greet him, smell his feet and rub on them, then smell his hands and… what happens next is a mystery: most of days I’d hit him with my paw and go away showing with all my body that I do not favor him today, the less often situation is I let him touch me. Even I don’t know how I will react, Granddad’s smell changes and sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t. But we have a problem with him anyway: he never listens Mom when she asks him not to do something with me/to me/ in my presence. I have many rules, because many things can freak me out. But he wants me to be a normal cat and every time he would say: he’ll get used to it. Well, if you know me, you know the answer. Even our vet told him I will not get used to be touched when I don’t want to, I will not get used to be played with like a puppy; I will not get used to standard cat food….I have my rules and they are to be followed if you wish me well. But it didn’t help either…so we are still on a shaky ground with him.

As for my grandma. She loves me from a distance. She would like me to like her and play with her and purr to her, but she never tried forcing me to do that. I am grateful for that. When Grandma visit us, she mostly talks to Mom and doesn’t make loud noises or aggressive moves, so I feel comfortable around her. But I am still not friendly with her. Mom would love me to make friends with her Mom, but I guess Grandma has to visit more often for me to do that. I find it difficult to trust people after my Step-Dad left us. Mom is the only constant thing in my life, so I am afraid to get attached to others.

Hide and seek

I love to play hide and seek in the corridors of our apartment building. Sometimes, when Mom’s a bit slow in entering home or leaving it, and I am having a crazy mood, I would dash out and ran away as fast as I can, hiding from Mom. Sometimes I’d go up to the fifth floor and sit there waiting for her to catch up with me. Or I would go down and hide behind one of the entrance doors, waiting for her to find me.

The trick is not only to hide, but not to get caught as well. I love giving Mom some extra exercise, making her run up and down or down and up several times. She thanks God that we live in the small building that has just five floors and no lift, so it is safer for me and easier to catch me on those crazy days.

We are a team!

As you all probably already know, my Mom and me we are a great team. We do everything together.
I wake her up every morning and Mom gives me my massage by my personal huge brush. Then I follow her to our bathroom and watch her do her toilet so I know she looks good. Only after that I take care of my own toilet.

While she is preparing our breakfasts and vitamins, I usually play, but I do not forget to remind her every 3 minutes about my morning walk. I have to hunt before I will be able to eat, I just have to at least walk out and check if everything’s fine in our building.
Not only we do this together, we also play, read, walk (several times a day!) sleep and fight every day with each other. Moreover, I control Mom’s workouts and make her have regular brakes in her workflow.
One of the most important things for us is helping each other out in our nightmares. I have them from time to time. I wish I remember what they are about. Mom says sometimes I moan as a human and she gets scared. She wakes me up tenderly every time she sees or feels me having a bad dream and I thank her with loud purring. And I am there for her too. She calls me the guardian of her dreams as she has strange dreams all the time and I am often there with her no matter where she goes. I have to take care of her no less than she has to take care of me. I guess that makes us a good team.

It is hard to be a human

It is hard to be a human. Why or why I am not a dog or a normal cat? They can do many things and be forgiven; and I have so many restrictions I am tired of. Just listen to this:
– I can’t climb a tree too high, because Ma does not trust me to go down properly. Once I’ve made a mistake of climbing to the top and falling from a small brunch. Once! I can’t be judged by one mistake till the rest of my life, can I?
– I can’t bite my Mom’s legs. She says that all the time, but I not always listen, of course. If you truly want something, it’s worth trying, right?
– I can’t go for a walk without a leash, because I have to walk my Mom. She’s chicken and afraid of everything: cats and dogs, children and cars, some humans or getting lost. So even if she lets go of the leash, I never ran too far from her. I have to look back all the time to check if she’s ok.
– I have to put up with other people staying with us from time to time and not bite, hit or yell at them. I don’t like it, but I have to do it for Mom as well.
– I have to wear clothes often. Because of the weather mostly, but still I am trying to evade it every time Mom says I need a sweater. If I want to go out, have to be dressed like everyone else, I guess.
– I have to be polite and greet people I know and like. To tell you the truth, most I just tolerate, but sometimes also greet them to make Mom happy and proud of me. I like when she says that I am a good boy and scratches my back.
-I have to understand many words, but most of all “no” and “danger”. I try to argue with Mom that I know better or that I am very curious about the thing. But she never listens. I bet that means she’s not as smart and grown up as I am.
– the worst thing of all is Mom going away all the time. I miss her even in my sleep and I tend to sleep near the door waiting for her to come back, so I can meet her and tell her how I feel right away.