Looking outside the bay window I notice the
gray clouds. I can also see my brother Blue staring at me from inside his
pet carrier, resting on the bus stop bench outside with Clyde. As I mentioned
in my introductory blog, Clyde could transform himself into a human. He has
transformed himself into a businessman. Pinkie joins me at the window to
observe Blue and resolutely says, “Blue is really going to Russia.” I’ve
never liked Blue, but being a cat, was very curious of his latest
exploit.
All week I have noticed Blue’s mood change
back and forth from melancholy to musical. I meant ‘meowsical.’ Blue had always
had a hard time accepting that he was cat in the first place, unless that cat
was the cat on the cat snack bag. From the first time he opened his eyes as an
abandoned newborn and saw what he thought was his mother in Lady Hun, who was
looking at him warmly while he slept in her arms. He always seemed to be
confused about his identity. He wanted to be a real boy like Pinocchio or
Buratino. He also identified with other pedigreed cats and animals he
admired, like the stallion and the peacock. He was always trying to be
something he wasn't. He overcompensated for his insecurities by developing
different talents.
Additionally, Lady Hun listened to a lot of international music which further
stimulated Blue’s desire to be an uncommon cat. Lady Hun had been playing
poignant Russian folk music over the weekend and Blue had been listening to it,
comparing himself to a Russian Blue cat, convinced that he was of Russian ancestry
and wanted to return to his roots.
Moreover,
Blue began to paw through the Hun’s literature collection and discovered
Dostoevsky and Gogol, finding their stories to be copacetic with
his new-found disposition.
As well, Blue had always been a bit of a ham, but his latest desire was to
become famous, namely a star in the Moscow Cat Theater. He had been
practicing walking on a tightrope, using the clothesline in the laundry room. I
would wince every time he fell off. He would be trying to balance cat toys on
his nose and juggle them. And he would be doing handstands and trying out
different meows and cat dances.
Thus, it didn’t come as a surprise when Pinkie asked “What’s going on?” after
noticing Blue with a Russian-English dictionary. Blue showed him a poster of
the Moscow Cat Theatre. “I’m going to Moscow. I am a Russian Blue and I want to
go home,” Blue proclaimed, adding “I want to join my comrades, drink vodka and
be a star in the Moscow Cat Theater”. I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it.
Blue flashed me a heated, hurtful look. “Blue, you are not Russian; you are a
random, non-specific, domestic tabby that only looks like a Russian
Blue!” Blue hissed at me. “I am Russian; I look exactly like the
Russian Blue in Cat Fancy, just look at me.” Pinkie came to Blue’s aid.
“I can understand your desire buddy, and you do look like a Russian Blue. Did
you know they are also known as Archangel Blue?” Blue shook his head.
Pinkie patted his paw on Blue’s shoulder and said, “Russia is so far
away, how you will get there from here?”
Likewise, at that moment
Clyde entered the house through the security flap with Big Red, both wearing
stylish Chapkas.
To Be Continued….
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