CDSM #5: Cats. What else?

It's 4 am, I still have two and a half hours more to go and I'm not really in a state anymore where I can write deep blog posts about philosophical topics (not that I ever do that, but yeah).
So I will write about cats.

Cats are awesome. I'm 100% a cat person and I get along well with cats. I don't get along well with dogs, I don't like them and they also don't seem to like me.
But cats, cats have personality! They are nobody's pets, you are their master!

I will now introduce you to some cats. Mine, my boyfriend's family's three cats and maybe some more. Let see!

Mischa

We got Mischa in 2007 after searching for a while for the perfect cat. We had high demands - my mother wanted a red cat, the rest of the family wanted a symmetrical cat, so we ended up with the most standard cat you can get. She was so cute though, how could you not take that little ball of fur?

At first we wanted a male cat, Maine Coon/Norwegian Forst Cat kinda cat (our neighbors had one of those at that time, called Gepetto), which we would have called Hannibal (so that we could buy him a little plushie elephant). We didn't find a cat like that though and so we ended up with that little female. In Hannibal Rising, Hannibal Lecter's sister is called Mischa, that's where she got her name from. We also call her Misch-Misch or Mischili. She does listen to all of those names.

At first she was really cute because she was so scared of grass that she would set a paw into it - we had fun carrying her to the end of the garden and let her race back into the house. Soon after, her evil side started to show when she decided it would be fun to jump at my hair and climb up people's pants (especially appropriate with guests). 

Now that she is grown up she has even more personality. She is very attached, especially to me, and loves to come and lie on me. At the same time, she is very aggressive and unpredictable, which results in my hand being torn into pieces (she doesn't just scratch to warn, she starts biting and scratching your arm and doesn't let go. My boyfriend swears she goes for the arteries). Almost every time when I go to pee, she comes to sit on my lap. She likes cake, but not chocolate cake. She knows my steps and waits at the door when I come home. She is a big hunter, some days in summer she brings three mice a night. She always sorts the animals into the rooms though - mice go into the bathroom or the corridor, lizards stay downstairs, dragonflies are always put under the table. Her masterpieces were two goldfish, a bat and a mole (there are no moles where we live). What else can I tell you... she loves my boyfriend, but he calls her "The Evil" and is a bit scared of her. My sister's boyfriend is deadly scared of her, but I think he is not a cat person overall. We keep a "Am I fed?" list where we tick off when we fed Mischa, because otherwise she would eat six times a day. In the morning, she always wants to lick some butter or margarine (she doesn't like the cheap one from the discount shop, but we didn't like it either). She also likes routine, you used to be able to set the clock after her because she always came back from outside at 21:45 sharp, but that stopped since my mother moved out. She loves the color yellow. 

I could go on like this, but then this would probably become a Russian novel about cats.

Ready to go shopping

Felix, Kubus & Sheldon

Felix is my boyfriend's family's oldest cat. He's a Maine Coon and huge. He weighs more than 10 kg, but if you would ask my boyfriend's mother, she would tell you that it's only fur. He loves bags and suitcases. If you bring a suitcase into the house, it doesn't take five minutes until he sits on it. A backpack is also acceptable, a laptop bag preferable. He is unable to open doors, even if they are actually opened.

Kubus was a surprise (they found a female cat on a parking and a few month later it doubled) and he is quite a weird cat. He runs after my boyfriend's mother like a dog and when she goes into the bathroom, he is meowing in front of the door until she lets him in. He also exclusively sleeps on her clothes. (I don't really have any pictures of him because he is my least favorite, if you can say it like that.)

Sheldon is my little baby. After the female cat died, my boyfriend wanted to buy his mother a new cat. We did some research and decided that we like Chartreux the best. I called some breeders in Germany and finally we found a woman with 15 cats. When we went there to buy a cat, there were seven tiny kittens and we had to choose. I never wanted to leave there, but eventually we picked the friendliest.

I said as a joke: "Let's call him Sheldon until we find a better name!" and somehow that stuck. He is really pretty and he has those crazy orange eyes. We travelled more than 800km by car with the little guy and it was no problem. We stayed in a hotel and when we tried to shower together in the evening, that little cat meowed so loudly that we really couldn't leave him alone. We blame that moment for his current craziness - he loves water. His biggest joy is if you turn on the tap for him so he can stick his head under the water. He also fell in the bathtub a couple of times already and if he can't get water, he smashed flower vases because he figured out that there is water in those.

He doesn't like to be carried, only I can hold him longer than 20 seconds (as I said, I'm good with cats). He also doesn't really grow, he is two years old now and still looks like a kitten. We call him bonsai cat. He adores Felix and does everything Felix does, too. That's why I often have two or even three cats on my suitcase when I'm there.

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I didn't have time to upload this yesterday because Old Guy woke up at 5 am and wouldn't go back to sleep. He got aggressive, tried to get up all the time and for two hours we were just shouting at each other. But I survived and I think it was a good experience overall :)

We grow cats in our garden