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During the years I have heard many sweet stories about how kind the Cretans are, practically the warm, generous type of people which lived on Earth centuries ago, with values that we westeners have lost long ago. Unfortunately I must tell you that these stories seem to be fairy tales....
As you might have read, I feed a bunch of cats on my terrace. Stray cats which will come by and eat and then disappear the whole day until they eventually come by again in the evening to get dinner. I try not to get too attached to these cats, I feed them because they are starving and that's it. But still, 3 of these cats became my favourites: Mis Daisy ("Mis" is Danish for "kitty"), Bernhard Bumblelegs, and Coyote Bill. Maybe because when they first came here as tiny kittens they were almost dying and I managed to handfeed them during the days when they were just apathetically letting themselves die, unable to stand up and go to get food and water .
Especially Mis Daisy conquered my heart. So trustful and sweet, sometimes she would come into the house and stay for half an hour to cuddle up beside me, until she would later let me know that it was time to say goodbye again and she wanted to go out.
My daughter had warned me: Be prepared, the Cretans will leave poisoned food around to kill the cats! It was hard for me really to believe that people would do like that, but three days ago Mis Daisy came by in the morning looking very poor and throwing up. I thought she had just been eating grass, cats do that, so I didn't think much of it. In the evening she came back looking even more miserable. I took her inside and let her stay on the couch and tried to make her drink at least some water, but nothing to do. She was obviously in great pain, but my ignorance made me hope she would get over it. After sitting with her all night in the morning she wanted to go out. I never saw her again. Cats go and hide when they know they are going to die. I feel so miserable thinking that my neighbours would do a thing like that...
A few months ago my neighbour got a puppy, very small, taken from its mother long before time, that was obvious. But with love and tenderness maybe a puppy can survive that. Well, the puppy could not stay on their terrace, since after it had been fed it would want to let something out, which was quite unacceptable. It was therefore put in the parking lot just next to my house, where it lives in a plastik box, having a space to move corresponding to the 1,5 metre of chain that's tied to its neck. It has been there for the last two-three months, nobody is taking it for a walk, nobody except myself is ever stopping to talk to him or cuddle him, he is simply given some pasta in the morning so that he won't starve to death. I wonder why these people wanted a puppy.... ??
Next to my house there is an empty ground. On the ground stand the ruins of an old fabrika, otherwise its only grass. For the last couple of months a big ram has been grazing on this fenced ground, he must have been quite happy, no chains, so apart from the loneliness maybe he enjoyed life. But this morning around eleven I saw him lying back on the ground among the broken stones from the fabrika and three legs sticking up, moving slightly from time to time. At first, I thought "how funny, sheep are doing like dogs, rolling around in the grass" but an hour or so later he was still in the same position and I felt something was wrong. I checked an hour later again and he was still there. Then I went down on the parking lot under my house to take a closer look. No doubt, he was obviously in pain and unable to get up. So I went to the square to see if I could find somebody that could help. I stopped a man coming by on a tractor and he came to take a look. We could not get into the ground because the gate in the fence is locked, but he saw too that the poor animal was in bad shape. Then a small truck came by and the man stopped it to ask if the driver would happen to know who the animal belonged to. The answer was "it belongs to my brother, and I don't care". Then he drove off. I hoped the tractor driver would find somebody who would take care of the ram, after all if not for helping the animal out of its pain, at least because such a ram represents a value, and letting it there to die slowly and finding it after days would leave the owner with no value at all. But nothing has happened. The few people I managed to contact could not care less, of the series "it's not mine, so don't bother me with it".
It's almost eight o'clock. The ram is still there with his three legs sticking up, probably the fourth is broken, and there is not a soul in Pitsidia who would move a finger to help him out of his pain.
I had to change a light bulb outside this afternoon. While standing on the step ladder to reach the lamp I thought that hopefully I would not fall off the ladder and break something, 'cause people in Pitsidia would probably just see me lying on the ground thinking "she is not my tenant, so I couldn't care less."
Today I don't like people here. I sincerely hope they will manage to change my opinion about them, but I fear it will take some cool cash to make them smile their friendly smiles and open their hearts.
[attachmentid=16] [attachmentid=17] [attachmentid=18]
Mis Daisy - Bernie - CoyoteBill
As you might have read, I feed a bunch of cats on my terrace. Stray cats which will come by and eat and then disappear the whole day until they eventually come by again in the evening to get dinner. I try not to get too attached to these cats, I feed them because they are starving and that's it. But still, 3 of these cats became my favourites: Mis Daisy ("Mis" is Danish for "kitty"), Bernhard Bumblelegs, and Coyote Bill. Maybe because when they first came here as tiny kittens they were almost dying and I managed to handfeed them during the days when they were just apathetically letting themselves die, unable to stand up and go to get food and water .
Especially Mis Daisy conquered my heart. So trustful and sweet, sometimes she would come into the house and stay for half an hour to cuddle up beside me, until she would later let me know that it was time to say goodbye again and she wanted to go out.
My daughter had warned me: Be prepared, the Cretans will leave poisoned food around to kill the cats! It was hard for me really to believe that people would do like that, but three days ago Mis Daisy came by in the morning looking very poor and throwing up. I thought she had just been eating grass, cats do that, so I didn't think much of it. In the evening she came back looking even more miserable. I took her inside and let her stay on the couch and tried to make her drink at least some water, but nothing to do. She was obviously in great pain, but my ignorance made me hope she would get over it. After sitting with her all night in the morning she wanted to go out. I never saw her again. Cats go and hide when they know they are going to die. I feel so miserable thinking that my neighbours would do a thing like that...
A few months ago my neighbour got a puppy, very small, taken from its mother long before time, that was obvious. But with love and tenderness maybe a puppy can survive that. Well, the puppy could not stay on their terrace, since after it had been fed it would want to let something out, which was quite unacceptable. It was therefore put in the parking lot just next to my house, where it lives in a plastik box, having a space to move corresponding to the 1,5 metre of chain that's tied to its neck. It has been there for the last two-three months, nobody is taking it for a walk, nobody except myself is ever stopping to talk to him or cuddle him, he is simply given some pasta in the morning so that he won't starve to death. I wonder why these people wanted a puppy.... ??
Next to my house there is an empty ground. On the ground stand the ruins of an old fabrika, otherwise its only grass. For the last couple of months a big ram has been grazing on this fenced ground, he must have been quite happy, no chains, so apart from the loneliness maybe he enjoyed life. But this morning around eleven I saw him lying back on the ground among the broken stones from the fabrika and three legs sticking up, moving slightly from time to time. At first, I thought "how funny, sheep are doing like dogs, rolling around in the grass" but an hour or so later he was still in the same position and I felt something was wrong. I checked an hour later again and he was still there. Then I went down on the parking lot under my house to take a closer look. No doubt, he was obviously in pain and unable to get up. So I went to the square to see if I could find somebody that could help. I stopped a man coming by on a tractor and he came to take a look. We could not get into the ground because the gate in the fence is locked, but he saw too that the poor animal was in bad shape. Then a small truck came by and the man stopped it to ask if the driver would happen to know who the animal belonged to. The answer was "it belongs to my brother, and I don't care". Then he drove off. I hoped the tractor driver would find somebody who would take care of the ram, after all if not for helping the animal out of its pain, at least because such a ram represents a value, and letting it there to die slowly and finding it after days would leave the owner with no value at all. But nothing has happened. The few people I managed to contact could not care less, of the series "it's not mine, so don't bother me with it".
It's almost eight o'clock. The ram is still there with his three legs sticking up, probably the fourth is broken, and there is not a soul in Pitsidia who would move a finger to help him out of his pain.
I had to change a light bulb outside this afternoon. While standing on the step ladder to reach the lamp I thought that hopefully I would not fall off the ladder and break something, 'cause people in Pitsidia would probably just see me lying on the ground thinking "she is not my tenant, so I couldn't care less."
Today I don't like people here. I sincerely hope they will manage to change my opinion about them, but I fear it will take some cool cash to make them smile their friendly smiles and open their hearts.
[attachmentid=16] [attachmentid=17] [attachmentid=18]
Mis Daisy - Bernie - CoyoteBill
Some friends of ours lost a dog in Kritsa due to poisoned food being put down for cats - it was the only time he had escaped from the house without being on a lead but I guess that is all it takes.
Alan has commented before that all the cats we see in Crete tend to look like young ones - the chances of a long life must be quite slim with all the odds that are set against them.
I hope something good happens in the next couple of days to restore your faith.
Yvonne