The Cherry Diaries: Tattletales and Shivers

Dear Diary,

When I was transferred to Portugal, I was promised sunshine and warmth, but somehow, I have had very little sunshine since arriving here. It seems to rain more than in Berlin but we also have a lot more clouds at my level here, which probably accounts for all the rain. In any case, I don’t like it because it means I am stuck indoors and can’t go out exploring. Well, I suppose one could go out, but the aggravation of getting cleaned up and dry again is just not for me. That would probably mean a bath (gasp! horror! barf!) and endless hours of post-shower-by-human cleaning. I am too old for that, so no thank you. I may not speak Portumeow, but I still have a functioning brain and somewhat good eyes, so when the locals find shelter and don’t prance around, why should I?

The thing about continuous rain though, is that this odd cement box we have outside fills up with water. I’ve heard Mom call it a pond and the locals call it a pool but since I have no idea what either those things is, I will call it as I see it – a cement water box. I know what rivers and lakes are, and this is definitely not one of those. Anyway… The other day when I went out and sat with the Milk Bar regulars, a disagreement escalated into a fight. It all happened so fast but there was a lot of hissing and growling (not from me for a change), followed by left and right hooks and claws. Next thing I heard was two loud splashes. Cat 1 punched Cat 2 in the face and pushed him into the cement box, which happened to be half full because it had rained three days straight! But before Cat 1 fell in, he managed to get another slap in and effectively pulling Cat 2 in with him. Plop, plop, hiss, hiss, oh what a comic relief it is… Mom and I were both outside when this happened which is how we witnessed everything to the last drop. Two very (very!) angry cats pounced up from the cement box afterwards and glared at me as if any of it was my fault. Moral of the story: do not pick a fight near the cement box when it has water.

We (the peasants and I) have come to what some would call the beginnings of a détente. Which means, I try not to throw too much of a tantrum when the outsiders drop in, and they don’t do a full on paparazzi on me when I step out. I can even sit and hang out with them from time to time when the weather is good. Not that we have much to say to one another, nor do I know what friendship means, but it is nice to be around other four-legged creatures. Let me re-phrase that, nice to be around other cats who are alert and friendly but respect my personal space. I like the girls better than the boys, although I can’t really tell you why. The boys don’t bully me, except when they come inside and eat all my food, and for the most part, but I noticed that they also start fights more than the girls. Oh but the girls such gossipmongers and chatterboxes! They always have something to say, even when they are eating. I’ve never experienced such a thing. But then again, I lived most of my life with Lolita who never had anything to say.

I ran out of both dry and wet food this week, and unfortunately for me, the delivery guy got lost twice in the clouds, so my delivery was delayed four days! Mom fed me tuna and rice in the meantime, which is the most disgusting thing ever. I hate fish in any form, and rice? That is Mom’s thing, not mine. Who does she think I am, a chicken?! When my delivery finally arrived, I sat at the door impatiently while Mom dragged the box in. She opened it in the office and I was so hungry that I ate an entire pack on the spot! Oh joy of joys! My senior dry food was replenished as well (this no-name bullshit that Mom feeds the outsiders is too common for my diva gums and missing teeth), so my world is back in order. Ha! My revenge for not having proper food these past days was to let out major poopsers after the big meals! I guess a large order of kitty litter is next on the agenda.

Much as I love the house and being with Mom all day, this place is much colder than the previous one. So I either stick to my fluffy sleeping bagel or go looking for Mom to cuddle up to. It is a good excuse to sleep beside the computer, since it is nice an warm there. Night times are coldest, especially since the temperatures dropped recently, but when we light the fire dragon, aaaahhhhh, purrrrrfect! My fur is growing back, thank goodness, but ever since I got my trim Mom has been hellbent on brushing me twice a day. Ugh. I like a good hairdo like any other Persian, but twice a day is a bit much.

I leave you today with a shot of T’Challa peeping in while Mom re-arranged the furniture. She arrived late for breakfast so most of the food outside was gone already. This was her trying to ask the kitchen services to be re-opened.

See you next week!
Meowingly yours,

Related Entries:

The Cherry Diaries: My First Fight

Guest Blogger: A Diva’s Rant

The Grand Arrival

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