Posts Tagged ‘Khiya’

Unconditional love

Because they make our lives so much better, and because they teach us a lesson about love every day… this post goes to all non-human animals!

Happy animal’s day!

 

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Two birds with one shot

Not really… I just wanted to put another idiom for the second Khiya-bird encounter in the year.

Fortunately, this one also had a happy ending (for the bird). I am afraid Khiya might be a bit bitter at me after this episode, though…

My mom and I left the birdy at the tree where it fell from. My mom did some really funny moves (like hugging the tree), but finally managed to climb high enough, and I handed the birdy to her. She then left it on a nice, comfy branch. We’ll check tomorrow if there’s any hint on the birdy’s fate.

Al que madruga Dios lo ayuda* (Unfortunate event # 4)

… or so they say.

I woke up this morning at 7:34. I had planned to wake up at 10, since I had been studying until 5:30 in the morning and felt I should preserve my energies for the coming exam this Tuesday.

I almost forgot setting up Khiya’s food. She is very demanding when it comes to food, and ignoring her demands can bring upon serious retaliation (eg: she has eaten important class notes, thrown valuable objects off my desk, pissed on my clothes or backpack). Yes, I know you are asking yourself how I can tolerate this cat, and there’s a two part answer to that: first, I love her, and second, the pissing on my stuff is really rare (else the love would be seriously challenged, yes).

So back to the story, it was 4:30 and I was already tucked in bed when I realized I hadn’t left food ready for Khiya’s 6am meal (yes, I’ve tried training her on a different schedule and no, it didn’t work). I forced myself out of the comfort of my mattress and poured a handful of those precious brown square-bites that preserve diplomatic relations between my pet and I. I realized that her water bowl was empty, so I filled it up, closed the door, turned the lights off, and went to bed. I doubted for a minute if I should leave the door open, because she usually makes a scandal at around 8:00 to go and sleep on a chair at the living room. I figured I’d just wake up and open the door, as I always do… 8:00 was an OK time.

Khiya walked along the bed looking for her sleeping spot for the night, and decided to rest on my pillow. She spread apart and looked terribly cute. She never sleeps so close to my face (usually by my chest or feet). I had almost no space left to rest my head, but I didn’t mind. She looked cute and was quiet, I chose to keep the status quo.

I couldn’t sleep. I had a sense of extreme, desperate fear about tuesday’s exam mixed with thoughts about my future, which usually keep me awake for a couple of minutes-hours a night. The problem was that it was already late and I was so stressed about the exam that I couldn’t afford to use the time if it wasn’t for either sleeping or studying. What to do, then? Answer is pretty simple: study. So I picked up my book from the desk, and read until 5:30, when the concepts I was learning started mixing up with images of guerrilla soldiers (mhmm, yeah, I’ve been reading Che Guevara’s writings on guerrilla warfare…) and I figured the sleep was kicking in. Khiya was still resting peacefully on my pillow. I gave in to dreams of a fair world…

I woke up to a sound I had heard before in my life. Terror, was Khiya pissing on my clothes again?! I was so tired that I would have probably let her do so, had I not started feeling the awful smell of cat piss… Before my body could grasp my dreaming soul and bring it back to consciousness, I felt a hot rush down my face and neck…

All I could think about was those who have ever been pissed on as a form of torture or bullying. Of course, my situation doesn’t compare. My life is unfairly comfortable, yet I couldn’t forsee my pet’s needs. All I had to do was leave the door open.

*Spanish idiom. Translation: “God helps the one who gets up early”, but could be equalled to the English idiom: “Early bird gets the worm”.

Into the wild, a post not strictly for the birds

It’s 2:10 am

I’ve been sick since Tuesday night, with a flu. Yeah, no big deal… I tend to tell myself the same thing, but then every cell in my body burns at 38 degrees Celsius and all my joints hurt, and I change my mind: it’s a pain in the ass. Being sick sucks…

I’ve spent a large percentage of these days sleeping, trying to rest and feel better. Today, after more than 20hs of accumulated sleep since Tuesday (a lot for me!) I decided to watch a movie, since I couldn’t read or study anything. I watched “Into the wild”, a movie by Sean Penn that’s certainly worth watching. It is a beautiful movie and it’s very, very well made. I’m not instructed on film criticism, so that’s as much as I can say… Anyways, this doesn’t intend to be a review… I just brought up the issue for two reasons: first, the main character’s philosophy is a very refreshing one and second, because a series of interesting authors are mentioned in the film, including Jack London.

I remembered reading “The call of the wild” some years ago, and how it struck me… I thought about my own dreams of adventure, of freedom, maybe?

—————–

Something like an hour ago, as I came out of the shower, Khiya started begging to go out into the balcony. She was pretty determined and, since I love it when she’s got her mind set to something, I quickly opened the window and let her out. I heard some weird noises outside, and thought that she’d probably be chasing some moth or another type of winged insect… I was half wrong. She was chasing a winged animal, but it was a slightly larger one. Less than a minute after going out, Khiya returned triumphantly, holding a ball of feathers in her mouth. She was excited and moved swiftly. For a second, the prey got lose and attempted to escape, but Khiya quickly caught it again. It was the first time in 4.5 years of apartment life that she had caught something; Her instincts remain intact, I thought, while the image of Buck came to my mind for a millisecond…

First, I was paralized. I squealed some words… I don’t know whether I thought that I could talk Khiya into not killing the poor bird, or I was just cursing the moment out loud in case some bigger force would mysteriously make it go away… But the wild scene was still unfolding, and I felt the need to intervene. I caught Khiya and made her drop the bird, who quickly hid in a corner of the room. I held Khiya, who was acting fiercely and fighting desperately to get loose, while putting on some clothes; a funny/ridiculous scene to watch (thank god no one was watching!) but I was not gonna take that bird anywhere in my towel! After I had my pijamas on, I put Khiya in the balcony again and shut the window (I know, why didn’t I do that first, instead of trying to get dressed while holding an anxious cat?)

So the cat side was dealt with. I was now to see what to do with the birdy. At that point, I heard my dad asking what was going on. I grabbed the bird and checked if it was hurt. Not a single scratch, luckily! But what would I do with her? (I assumed it’s a girl). I wasn’t sure if she could fly, maybe she was too young, or maybe she was sick, but how could I find out at 2am? I thought of putting her in a box until the next morning, when I could take her to the vet and figure out how to help her best. I immediately imagined my parents’ reaction; they are really afraid of my compulsive animal-rescuing behaviour (more on this soon). And what would I do with Khiya, if she was ever to forgive my betrayal?

I went to the patio with the bird wrapped in a t-shirt (who knows if I’d pick up some disease and spread it around at the hospital?). I could find no box to put her in for the night… My mom appeared in all her midnight splendor (ie: she looked miserable) and the bird flew out of my hands, and hid behind some shelves. I spent some time trying to catch her back; the poor thing just looked like she wanted to get some sleep (not my mom, the bird… actually, so did my mom).

After climbing, crawling, tiptoeing and so on, I managed to catch the bird again, and decided that I would leave her in the balcony and made sure all windows stayed closed so that Khiya couldn’t get to her (of course, I let Khiya inside the house again first). She’d be safe there, since there’s a net for child protection, so she wouldn’t “fall”, she could only get away if she flew higher than the net… It looked like a good idea. Except that the bird didn’t feel like leaving my finger anymore (oh, right… by then I’d forgotten I had once been worried about becoming a vector of a zoonosis). I held my hand up for a while, so that the bird could choose between flying away of staying in the balcony. But she was either too comfortable on my hand, or she couldn’t make up her mind about what to do… concretely, my arm was starting to hurt from the being stretched up for so long, so I ended up leaving the bird in between some daisies I’ve planted some months ago (that would be the presidential suite, in bird terms). As soon as she was down on the flowerpot, she flew against the net but she couldn’t get through. Her attempt was so desperate that I figured she’d hurt herself if left alone all night. So I held her up a while longer, until she got the courage to fly away. She only flew a couple of meters though, and decided to spend the night at someone else’s window…

When I got back to my room, I found Khiya smelling every squared meter of it, trying to find a clue about the bird’s mysterious disappearance. She was puzzled and disappointed, but luckily she held no hard feelings against me. We never talked about this incident again…

A cat’s life