This cat is living it up in downtown Catania. The woman who feeds me will doubtless feed this one now without a pang for my own well being.
While she’s tripping around like a queen, I will be languishing under the care of another (at least I’m not destined for the cat boarding chambers).
But I shouldn’t be feeling resentful, I’m much better off in my own home than padding around scrubby vineyards in the hot sun and imagine if the volcano decided to blow up just as I was checking out the value of ash as kitty litter?
Worse, to my horror, I’ve found that cats in Sicily are poisoned on a regular basis. When I was younger and more adventurous, I was picked up a couple times from the creek at the back of my house by some stranger and carted off to the Cat’s Home. Luckily, I’m microchipped and the woman could liberate me from this indignity. (I rarely move far from the back porch these days).
If I lived in Sicily, it would have been curtains for me.
Still, do you think it’s fair for her to jaunt around the globe and leave me behind? Questions of loyalty spring to mind. Why, I could even bring her luck and pick up a fortune, just like Tommaso, the rich Italian cat
Some more of those Sicilian cats. These two are in Cefalu and I can only hope that their food isn’t poisoned.
I wonder what they do with all the dead cats? Do they simply toss them into the trash. With such warm weather for the better part of the year, the stench must be dreadful. It’s always alarming to behold how other cultures choose to deal with certain problems. I guess we have our own metaphor in the states. We house the insane in prisons and often re-release them. They wander like these Sicilian cats, the result of a bandaid on the wound but not a workable solution to the problem. How macabre. There’s a great short story in there somewhere.