This current road trip is taking place with two main players: Max, I and our support player, Bea the cat.
Yes, we are bringing a cat.
I wouldn’t do this with any cat. She is truly the best cat. But these aren’t just words I throw in the air like some excited young teenagers usually do: “Omg, you’re the BEST! haha luv u! xoxo” My good friends know why I say that, but let me tell that story once more, for you out there.
A little more than one year ago, I hated cats. (Dear cat lovers, I will not apologize to simply smooth over what I just said, but the following will glue back together the pieces of your broken heart.) Now back to Bea. We found her in the parking lot of our neighbour’s apartment, hiding in a hole with her two evil relatives, brother and sister. We didn’t want a cat as I didn’t like excited and careless felines, so we wanted to give the kitties to someone who would take great care of them. Bea was the smallest with beautiful dark grey hair, a little clumsy, the outcast, the black sheep, the Ugly Duckling. When we fed the little trio, she was the last one to pop her head out from under the table and waited for everything to be truly safe before coming to eat. When I went to bed, the two others kept moving and biting my feet and fingers, but she stood calm, curved into a little ball lying against my legs. This got me.
The morning I was supposed to give her to a girl who said she’d treat her like a princess (this word questioned my trust in her), I woke up early and was ready to go to work. I was telling her goodbye, something I didn’t really do with the two others since their arrow missed my heart. Surprisingly, as I was getting further, a feeling of sadness grew in me. When I arrived at work, I started to cry, a silent and painful cry. I felt weird. “Marilena, you rarely cry. Now, you’re crying for a cat. That’s weak.”
I called Max: “I think I like her. What if this kitten is kind of my cat-soul-mate? Maybe I’ll never find such a calm, beautiful and gentle cat.” He replied: “If you feel like keeping her, just do it. This other girl didn’t see her yet so you can just send her a message and tell her you’re keeping the kitten.” So, as I hated villain small-sized fake lions, it was a hard decision for me to take. But this little one didn’t annoy me at all. Max added: “Plus, it’s your birthday. If you keep her, she’ll be your little gift.” I realized it was a funny coincidence and finally decided to adopt her. She wouldn’t be a stranger’s princess, she would be my own little adventurer.
Turns out I never regretted my choice, especially when I exchanged some words with Google and it taught me she is a Korat. I invite you to ask it was a Korat is.
So, the support player has been described. For the two others, you’ll get to know us in between the lines of this sentence combination we’ll call “journal”.
Or alphabet soup, choose what you prefer.