Earlier this month we found ourselves rather unexpectedly in Split, Croatia – a somewhat long story which I’ll save for another time.
The area around Diocletian’s palace on the waterfront is very attractive, with modern buildings jostling for a spot among impressive examples of historic architecture.
Tourists tripped off ferries in great gaggles, grouping obediently for their guides, and while the locals, enjoying their Friday evening downtime, shopped, sipped their drinks, chatted, enjoyed the delicious ice cream, we soaked up the atmosphere.
I was struck by the fact that no cat was to be seen. It seemed odd to me as I would have expected many a moggie to be scrounging, if not lounging, about. Do they only appear late at night? Is there some sort of control by the local authorities? This might be the reason for there were no stray dogs either.
Pet dogs there were a-plenty though, their owners cheerfully allowing me to take photos, and even striking a pose for me. I do always ask first and find that folk are most obliging.
This is Mythos, who was named after the award winning Greek beer, Mythos. A very popular brew, Mythos has a good head of foam topping its rich golden colour, so it’s easy to see how Mythos cat got his name, but feline Mythos also has a good head on his shoulders for he was sharp-witted enough to make his home here.
Mythos has a long sad story of his own, which I will tell you in some future post, but today I’ll introduce what is likely to become the latest addition to the furry and hairy household.
For want of a better name at present, I give you Mythos Minor.
This feisty little chap showed up here just over a week ago, in the rain, out of the forest. Skin and bone, skin and bone but with the typical hugely swollen bellyfull of worms.
When Costa saw him a couple of days later he assured me that the intrepid infant had made his way to us from the furthest end of the village, a distance of at least a mile, across rocky headlands and through dense undergrowth. If Costa says so, then it is so.
Costa is familiar with all that happens here, and it would seem that Mythos Minor was one of several cats and kittens that scrounged around at a particular taverna, now closed since September. This is an annual saga.
Well-meaning holiday makers feed many of these feral cats, but when they leave the cats (and dogs) have to fend for themselves. Anyway, Costa is quite convinced of Minor’s origins. How on earth did this spunky soul make it to us, and how long did it take him? Fortunately, unlike Raki, he’s fully weaned.
What to do? Like all kittens, he’s very cute and curious.
We’d love to keep him, even though he’s already caused much upset among the other cats, all of whom are rescues. We’ve brought him to the attention of Sharon at PAWS and our fingers are tightly crossed that he might be adopted, but…..
Right now Junior has a warm bed in the shed with a heat lamp and all comforts.
He’s taken out several times a day to play about, climb trees and be socialised. He’s very friendly and affectionate and absolutely hates being put back into the shed after we’ve tired him out.
He’s a spunky soul, and does his best to stand his ground, but two of our big toms are determined to hurt him. Funny how they’ve forgotten the dreadful circumstances each was in when they were rescued!
He deems everything worthy of his attention, and zooms about as long as I am there to protect him.
Mythos Major was advancing on Minor earlier this morning.
Anxious to avoid an upset, I tried to distract him with a cat treat which he is very partial to. Minor had no intention of being left out though, figuring that anything Major got he should get too.
Minor’s more than just courageous though; he’s one smart kitty and pretty soon decided not to push his luck,
… contenting himself with the leftovers.
Mt Pelion, home to many of the Greek myths, stares down upon me as I write as though it knows that Mythos Minor is unlikely to be going anywhere anytime soon.