My crafter's companion challege card

A kitty cat named Nya

Well after about 8 months I finally find the time to talk about my kitty, Nya.

She came home on the 3/11/08. She was just a skinny little thing, all black with yellow eyes and about 1 year old, as the vet told us. She has been a stray for a while and she had had kittens but the vet told us they didn't find them. When Nya was found she had been injured. She had a big shoe mark at her side where some evil person had kicked her. She was almost paralized on her two back legs. Someone found her and took her to the nearby vet. Becky (the vet) took care of her and managed to save her and her back legs. But she couldn't keep her as she already has a couple of cats and dogs. So the little black kitty was looking for a home.

Talking with my boyfriend we decided to give it a try. Of course we first had to see how she'd get along with the dog of the house, the silly and always hungry Holly. So I went to a vet on that Tuesday to see how the cat would like me. What I didn't really expect that day was to come home with a cat carrier and a small black kitty whose name so far had been "stray cat".

We put the carrier, which she prefered as a bed, in the back bedroom and as we weren't prepared we took a loaned litter tray. The same night we went out and bought her a few toys and other things. She seemed to like her new room though she was still warry. We bought her a nice comfortable bed but she never slept in it. She like her little cat carrier more. I guess it made her feel safe because it was the same cat carrier the vet used to carry her in.



Naming her was quite easy. At first I suggested we call her Becky, like the vet who saved her. But James wanted something more japanese. He suggested several names which I didn't really like, until he mentioned "Nya". It's not a name, it's means "meow" in japanese. So our kitty is named Meow. Which suits her because she likes to meow a lot and talk back to people. The funny thing is that she knows her name and 9 out of 10 times she comes when you call her. Of course she has some nicknames as well: Miss Meow Meow, Purrmeow, Evil Kitty. She seems to be fine with all of them.

Day by day she started exploring the house. And the people and dog leaving in it. She met Holly. Of course Holly's first reaction was to chase her but after a few days of us sitting down and playing with both of them, they seemed to get along just fine. By christmas day they were opening presents together on the rug. Though Holly is still a bit not quite sure about Nya.

I'm glad we got this little cat. Sometimes I look at her and think about how much pain and hardships this little cat has been through and it makes me sad. But then I am glad because now she seems happy. At least she is somewhere safe and no bad people can hurt her ever again. She is not a pure breed, in her medical book it just says "Domestic short hair" but I wouldn't change her for any other cat in the world. I know a lot of people prefer animals with pedigrees but there are so many cats and dogs out there that need a home that it seems weird to me to have to spend a lot for money for one with a certain colour or a certain "shape". Besides, would any meowing be as cute as the meowing of my little Miss Meow Meow?


Next time: A day in the life of Miss Nya

When I grow up, I want to be a child.

I guess many of you know Peter Pan. The boy who wouldn't grow up.
Either through the book or the numerous adaptations in comics and film.
A boy who decided to live in a different world, with no grown-ups except a pirate.
He could fly, he lived in a tree with his friends and talked to fairies.
The pirate was an awful man, with a wooden leg and a hook for a hand.
Also the pirate didn't know how to have fun while for Peter Pan every day was an adventure.
Peter is everything we ever dreamed about as children and Hook is an old man with difficulties in movement and always angry. Who would you want to be?
Well I don't know about you but I used to dream that Peter Pan would come flying in from the window and take me to his magical Neverland.

I guess, since my birthday is close, it's inevitable that I'll think about how I am growing up. Think about how far I have come and what comes next. Well what I want to do is be a child. I never really wanted to grow up.

When you are a child you can't wait to grow up. You don't want people to be treating you like a child. But children are carefree. They have no stress. They are allowed to get away with many things. They have unlimited imagination that can turn a carton box into a castle. They want so much but they can be happy with so little. They can always smile. They recover so fast when they are hurt, they get up and continue running almost immediately.
I want to be like that.
I don't want to be a pirate.

Behind the song...

You know how it is when there is a song stuck in your head?
Well this happened to me last week. This song called "Senorita" by a band named "James". I've known this song for a long long time but last week, after hearing a few verses of the song on tv somehow it got stuck in my head. And of course, my friends had to put up with it since I was sending this song to everyone... Don't you just love youtube sometimes?

The verse that made the song attach itself to my brain was the "I'm addicted to you, you're my love, my senorita" which is a line every woman would love to have someone say it to her. I mean, wouldn't you want someone addicted to yourself? Hmm... I am not really sure... Addictions are rarely (if not never) good. It sure is flattering, having someone live and breathe for you, not able to spend one moment without you... But for how long? Won't it get tiring after some time? I think it would. People need space and time for themselves. Or is it just me?

But even though that verse made a strong first impression to me, the one that got me thinking was one not so "glamorous".
"Don't treat me like a God,
treat me like a dog,
I'll come home to you"
Weird isn't it? You'd think that since he is addicted to her, he'd want her to treat him the same. But no... he wants to be treated like a dog. (Forgive me all you people that adore dogs for what I am about to write, although I am a cat person, I like dogs too.) He wants to be treated like an inferior being, ordered around and have his life controlled by her. And he'll still come back to her. It reminded me of a quote I read in a magazine once (I'll try to translate because it was in greek) "Men are like stamps, the more you spit on them, the more they stick" In greek the phrase "spit on someone" means ignore. You can easily replace men with women in that quote, it wouldn't make a difference. But why? Why is it that we want that which we cannot have? That which needs effort to be conquered? You think I have the answer? Nope, I have no idea. Perhaps it is some primal instinct from the days when we lived in caves that makes us want to hunt for things. Or/and perhaps it's just that the "journey" is worth more than the "destination". I am not making any sense? Yeah I know...

Everyone else is blogging...

...but why should I?
Just randomly talking to a friend in MSN today I noticed next to his name the address of his blog. I had been considering starting a blog but since I was always bad at expressing myself in writing (I still am) I avoided it. Why would anyone want to read what I have to say? And why would people care?

I asked my friend why he made a blog and why would he want to write in it "To type english... display creativity. If I tell a company I speak English, or tell someone I can write about things
I can direct them to my blog. And it's fun to read about other people's opinion" so I thought "Ok he wants to have something to write in his CV" and when I whined that I can't write to save my life he said "All you have to do is read your thoughts". To my question "I am just thinking that everyone is blogging... should I try it too?" he responded "If you feel like you have something to share... Something other people might enjoy reading... Actually, even if nobody gets to read it, you can still do it... Just complain and shit. About how much your work sucks, what your worries are... People might respond. If they agree or better, disagree" But why do I want strangers to read my thoughts and his answer came "Because you want someone to care..." That made me smile.

So here I am, writing my first post thanks to him. Sometimes my friend is so smart. Sometimes he is not. Is this the right decision? Well like he said it's just a innocent thing and if I decided to leave it to this it can always be lost to the vast "sea" the internet is. No one will ever now it existed. And if it turns out well then I'll have one more thing to thank my friend for besides him cheering me up with links of cat videos and his occasional slap when I whine too much.