On how Lucia got mauled by a Bengala tiger and considered shaving both her head and her cat (not pussy)
Mishka and Koyla's lives have been one of struggle. From their first steps under the vigilance of some mysterious Russian mother that fled in obscure circumstances, to a pilgrimage of chromatically insulting apartments, dubious mashed potatoes diet, and variegated foreign speaking surrogate tutors. They finally landed under the pupillage of this, your not very conventional Spaniard, and christened Diomedes and Camaron, after the gods of Colombian Vallenato and Spanish Flamenco respectively.
Yes, my two cats have had it tough. I perhaps may have forgotten about their existence once or twice...they perhaps have manifest their discontent by spraying on very strategically selected symbolic spots, like my Zen garden and my Dolce & Gabana leather bag. And hence, this silent passive aggressive battle has survived home changes and boyfriend changes and career changes to the point that just for the sake of constancy we can't help but to love each other.
Now perhaps you are acquainted with THE bath incident, which I deemed worth sharing for the potential moral applicable to life...or just for the 10 minutes of company time spent reading this, really. It all started with me ignoring the scratching frequency of Koyla a.k.a. Camaron a.k.a. the smart one (as opposed to the “not so bright” one of the pair). Using the universal technique of not acknowledging the problem, I let it fly till it was obvious that if I didn't fight the creepy crawlers issue I better start thinking about a new hair do myself...Full Metal Jacket style.
Inspired by old Spaniard maruja knowledge and a sudden Twinkie sugar rush, I grab the cat and a half gallon vinegar bottle, and off to the sink we went. The battle was fierce! Lucia stern on her determination of scrubbing every inch of the enemy, water and vinegar splashing all over the kitchen walls and ceiling, tiger roars and pitiful meows, oh lord! I shiver just at the memory of the gruesome fight!
40 minutes later, here emerges Lucia victorious! Wet and wounded as what it was later described as “attempted tiger rape” claw pattern, but mission accomplished. My usually proud Spaniard car barely standing shivering, his luscious cream fur turned into a wet pitiful rag showing his little skinny minnie trembling limbs...BUT bug free. Aha!
My cat has not been the same for the last week. His pride and aloofness gone, I am not sure if due to the traumatic experience or the cold he catch after the incident. I am somewhat feeling guilty; morale of the story being possibly “don't try to impose your sense of goodness”, but applicable too “go to Petsmart and spend some $50 bucks on tick & flea shampoo and spray” OR “shave your cat”...ha! I think I'm going for this last one next time...
POSTFACE: The cream colored cat lays down, silent, watching every move of his goofy looking hairless pack's alpha that subjected him to the senseless horrific torture last week “... she's being awfully nice to me...she thinks she won...HA, lost the water battle but not the war...” Koyla thinks “wait” smirks the cat “wait to find out what I have peed on now”.
Mishka and Koyla's lives have been one of struggle. From their first steps under the vigilance of some mysterious Russian mother that fled in obscure circumstances, to a pilgrimage of chromatically insulting apartments, dubious mashed potatoes diet, and variegated foreign speaking surrogate tutors. They finally landed under the pupillage of this, your not very conventional Spaniard, and christened Diomedes and Camaron, after the gods of Colombian Vallenato and Spanish Flamenco respectively.
Yes, my two cats have had it tough. I perhaps may have forgotten about their existence once or twice...they perhaps have manifest their discontent by spraying on very strategically selected symbolic spots, like my Zen garden and my Dolce & Gabana leather bag. And hence, this silent passive aggressive battle has survived home changes and boyfriend changes and career changes to the point that just for the sake of constancy we can't help but to love each other.
Now perhaps you are acquainted with THE bath incident, which I deemed worth sharing for the potential moral applicable to life...or just for the 10 minutes of company time spent reading this, really. It all started with me ignoring the scratching frequency of Koyla a.k.a. Camaron a.k.a. the smart one (as opposed to the “not so bright” one of the pair). Using the universal technique of not acknowledging the problem, I let it fly till it was obvious that if I didn't fight the creepy crawlers issue I better start thinking about a new hair do myself...Full Metal Jacket style.
Inspired by old Spaniard maruja knowledge and a sudden Twinkie sugar rush, I grab the cat and a half gallon vinegar bottle, and off to the sink we went. The battle was fierce! Lucia stern on her determination of scrubbing every inch of the enemy, water and vinegar splashing all over the kitchen walls and ceiling, tiger roars and pitiful meows, oh lord! I shiver just at the memory of the gruesome fight!
40 minutes later, here emerges Lucia victorious! Wet and wounded as what it was later described as “attempted tiger rape” claw pattern, but mission accomplished. My usually proud Spaniard car barely standing shivering, his luscious cream fur turned into a wet pitiful rag showing his little skinny minnie trembling limbs...BUT bug free. Aha!
My cat has not been the same for the last week. His pride and aloofness gone, I am not sure if due to the traumatic experience or the cold he catch after the incident. I am somewhat feeling guilty; morale of the story being possibly “don't try to impose your sense of goodness”, but applicable too “go to Petsmart and spend some $50 bucks on tick & flea shampoo and spray” OR “shave your cat”...ha! I think I'm going for this last one next time...
POSTFACE: The cream colored cat lays down, silent, watching every move of his goofy looking hairless pack's alpha that subjected him to the senseless horrific torture last week “... she's being awfully nice to me...she thinks she won...HA, lost the water battle but not the war...” Koyla thinks “wait” smirks the cat “wait to find out what I have peed on now”.
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