As a street cat turned house cat I feel comfortable almost anywhere. People find it strange, they laugh when I put myself to rest in a sink or on a laptop. They don´t realize that my alternative was a garbage container or a stinking cellar that I would have to share with other mean street … Continue reading
Now listen up. I just discovered something new. In our street, Kutuzovsky Prospyekt there is a theatre. Big deal, you might think, there´s theatres in many streets in many cities all over the world. True, but this is a special theatre. It´s Театр Кошек Юрия Куклачева, or Yuri Kuklachev´s Cat Theatre.
On this picture you see the central square in Baikalsk; as you can guess a small town at Lake Baikal in South Siberia. The temperature: -30°C. Terribly, no horrifyingly cold. In one of the shops around this square they sell fish. And what is sitting in front of that shop?
I bet you didn´t know this: dozens of cats protect the treasures of the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. I wouldn´t mind living there for some time.
Uuwaaaahhhh. It was a lazy day yesterday. Aleksandra was filming in metro stations Oktyabrskaya and Mayakovskaya for some report she´s going to make later (I´ll place the link). David Jan was doing something about the funeral of a Russian political activist who committed suicide in Holland.
An introduction of myself cannot go without an introduction of the ones who adopted me. My saviours, my heroes. Two people who continuously phuphuphu and mumumu me. They seem to think that I´m a retard who doesn´t understand normal language. But nevertheless I love them with all my cat heart and cat soul. Let me … Continue reading
The worst part of the Russian winter is the end of it, when the snow starts melting and everything turns into a muddy mess of water and black/brown/grey heaps of sludge. In this period I am so happy to be a house cat. Comfortably sitting on the heated windowsill (there´s a radiator under it) I watch pitifull human beings on their way to their jobs, the shop or their lovers, trying to stay on their feet, but unavoidably slipping on remaing patches of ice. I feel sorry for them, but most of all I feel sorry for my congeners roaming the street. Stray cats. I could have been one of them (in Belgrade). Please dear readers, spend a few moments of your thoughts on the poor creatures of the street. It won´t hurt. (more…)