Have you ever been so confused in your life, that you did not know what you feel? You are close to someone and yet far, you look at each other and hit, instead of kissing, because you are afraid to admit what is going on; you look at her and have no idea why this creature is so important to you, but you feel it in your guts, and ready to forgive all those bites, sudden jumps and hogging all the attention some times. I still won’t let her steal my treats or deprive me of my naps, but I like when she misses me, you know. Whenever I leave home, even for 5 mins, I come back to a yelling little monster who starts purring to Mom and jumping at me simultaneously. She can’t be alone at all. You know what warms my heart most of all, she is purring to Mom, but she switches to me instantly and chooses to go play with me, not stay and have some girl time with Mom.

I never could imagine I’d love someone except for Mom. But now, I’m afraid, I do. Having Kleo back with us made me realize how much I love this little ball of fur with a fire under her tail. Mom thinks Pixie chose her over Kleo and started following her around when she was not even a months old yet, but we all know who she chose to be with, right?

Still, I am confused about it, can’t grasp the moment when I turned from hating all the other cats to loving one.

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?

The Diamond Boy

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.

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.

My super feet attack


What do I love more than playing hide and seek with Mom is the one thing -attempting my secret feet attack.  Mom even made me a special hiding box, knowing my love to such things. She never thought that a simple shoebox is able to bring so much fun into our lives.
I would dive under it and sit silently for long time waiting for Mom to pass by. Then I’d dart my paw out if she is close or jump out, if she is a bit further, tap her foot and hide under the triangle of a box again.
But sometimes hiding there is of no success. Somehow Mom knows I am there and she would sneak up on me from behind and grab by tiny butt. How she finds me there, I wonder. Is it some kind of mothers’ magic when she feels what I am about to? Or is she is spying on me all the time with invisible eyes on her back?

What’s the fuss about the red dot?


I’ve heard a lot about the legendary red dot, I’ve even watched some videos of cats playing with it, but I got hold of one only recently.
Mom was so excited when she brought one home. She tested it on my grandparents’ and my Uncle’s cats and they loved it. Yumi, the Uncle’s cat is young and not very educated, so she was fascinated about it. Kovalsky, the big and majestic cat of my grandparents is older and wiser, but still he played with it for a while. But me…well, I looked at Mom’s hand holding the thing that was shining with red light in the middle. I came and touched it: plastic, my favorite size – easy to chew! And I said: can I try it, please? Mom shook her head and said: play with the red dot! I looked around and saw what she was pointing me at.
It was it- the famous red dot! I grabbed it right away! But imagine my disappointment, when I realized it is not real! You can’t touch it, you can’t catch it…so what’s the reason to try to?
I turned my surprised face at Mom and told her it was a bad joke. Then I came and took that plastic thing from her hand to calm myself with chewing it. But it was not tasty at all, so I left it in a couple of minutes and called Mom to go for an extra walk. I needed it bad that day.
So can you, guys, tell me what’s the fuss about this red dot if it ain’t real at all???