Black Cats Matter
#Caturday – Post Script – Black Mama died last year.
I live in a world of cats. High in the Italian Alps, my home is also the abode of many feral cats. Ten years ago, our cat population was 22. These were all “forest cats” who were largely left to fend for themselves during our harsh winters. Like typical Americans, we adopted them all.
Most all of these cats were gray. But the grandmother of them all was a black Manx. She is still alive at almost 15 years, a very tidy sum for a wild cat. We call her “Black Mama.” She is matriarch of most of our entire cat world.
Of all her offspring, our favorite was a gray female we called “Cione” (ciccione means fatty in Italian.) She trusted us the most and was a frequent visitor in our house. She was smarter than most and knew the value of a warm bed and hand-fed sausage. She…
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People who need cats are the luckiest people in the world.
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I seem to always have cats around me, even when we travel.
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That’s a lot of cats. I remember it seemed everywhere we visited in Italy had ferrel cats, and they generally looked well cared.
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Italy like Greece and Egypt seems to be a “cat culture.”
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I think that countries with a lot of grain agriculture prefer cats, as apposed to countries that have more heard animals. Cats are good mousers, but not very good at herding sheep, pigs and cattle. Although our cats are pretty good at bringing all kinds of critters from outside inside (their own versions of herding), then I have to capture the critters and put them back outside.
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What beauties! We have a black cat and a grey. Rico (the black one) is the boss… He’s very loving but also aggressively protective… He wouldn’t let another animal cat or otherwise harm his brother, Aragorn (our grey cat). 🙂
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