On the Catwalk

I love cats and in Bourgas there are a LOT. In fact I took a little catwalk today to show you the cats in our neighborhood. There is a lady who lives in a house around the corner from us (or at least I assume it's a lady - cat lady sounds much more reasonable that cat man) and she has at least 17 cats. It's hard to keep track since they keep having babies and dying. Actually, it gets a little difficult to see it day after day. On any given night you can hear cat fights and cat love and the screeching really stresses me out. So do the one eyed cats and the cats so thin you can see their little bones. It doesn't take long for a newly born kitten to get an eye infection or loose it's tail and to me nothing is more depressing than a depressed kitten.

We have had our favorites in the year since we've been here. And we even thought about kidnapping one off the street but didn't want to have to return her when we left. Out of all the cats - Маймуна (monkey in Bulgarian) was the best. She lived in the center by a bunch of cafes with about nine other cats and we happened upon her one winter night and fell in love. She was so friendly - she let us pet her (which is unusual for these feral cats) and even climbed up my jacket and sat on my shoulders (hence the name Маймуна). Every couple of days we would go back to the center and feed her and her friends bags of cat food and when I had extra food I wanted to get rid of I always went straight to her. So we decided she would be better off living with us than on the streets. In preparation for our new cat we went and bought kitty food, litter and a toy, talked to our landlords to make sure it was okay, found a vet and then went to Wil's work to get a bird cage to take her home in. However, when we got there she seemed more interested in eating trash than coming home with us and when we finally got her in the carrier she flipped out so intensely that I felt bad and we had to let her out. After that she wouldn't come near us again. And then one day we went to feed her and she and her little kitty friends had disappeared. The city had killed them all.

We have since realized that friendly kitties are actually just in heat and interested in "sexy time" (as the man on the street warned us when we were getting attached). We've reconciled ourselves to just feeding them and petting them when we have hand-sanitizer nearby. But each day as I take my morning or afternoon catwalk I dream of a Bourgas where the cats are healthy and thriving with two eyes and sleek coats.