Ashley Gets Lost

Let’s face it. I know what you’re all really here for, and it’s cats. If it’s not cats, please remove yourself from my electronic presence. Unless it’s my butt you’re after, then you can stay, but you need to be nice to the cats!

Anyone who knows me or has seen photographic evidence of my previous trips to Greece knows that the kitties are the icing on my mediterranean cake. I even have an extensive tally of all cats pet on my second trip here. I pet 114 cats in three weeks.

I’ve probably pet more than that in my time here now, but I am no longer keeping track. Some have become my friends, and some have become my frenemies. I’m talking to you, cat in the front of this picture.

These are just a handful of my closest dumpster cats! I am not the only one that feeds them, but they were extremely grateful for a bowl of cool water during last month’s heat wave. They were rubbing all over me, trying to take our friendship to the next level, when the cat in the front decided to impale my thumb quite deeply with her sharp talons! Then she had the nerve to request that I pet her some more. With blood dripping down my arm, I informed her that I needed her to think about her actions and make some decisions about our relationship before I returned. Then I went home and washed with soap and put some antiseptic cream on it. Dumpster cat scratch fever is not how I want to spend my summer.

I have named this cat Batman or Bruce depending on how polite he’s being. Real talk, I have no idea on the gender of most of these kitties. I’m calling it with my heart. I have not reached genital inspection levels on most of these friends, although some have gladly shown me their bellies.

Batman is a local puss down in Plaka, the village down the hill. No matter what restaurant we end up at, we always run into him. His bat signal is the smell of meat. He loves being pet, but then he likes to jump up and slap you around a little for fun. Joshua and Felix are into the game, but I prefer a more tender relationship.

And this grungy beauty is my girl Kevin Canadian Bacon. We first met her the same night that Batman introduced himself. Her back was tore up from the floor up. We have no idea what happened to her, but she was missing a decent amount of skin and fur from her back. It looked like raw meat, and I felt so sad for her. Fortunately her wounds looked pretty good. They did not appear to be infected or anything. So I named her Canadian Bacon, because that’s kind of what her meat looked like. I added the Kevin on our next visit.

One evening, several weeks later, she showed up with strips of scabs hanging off her back. I wished I’d had some scissors on me to help her get them off. I assume they were very itchy! As of the last two weeks, she appears to be almost all healed up!

I feel like we have a special relationship. We have shared many meals, and now that her wounds are closed, I can pet her whole back! She will continue hanging out with me even after I no longer have any morsels to share. I joke about wanting to take her home to be my new BFF, but I think she’d really miss out on her evening routine of restaurant dinners. I don’t think kibbles and goop are gonna cut it after a nightly feast of such high caliber. We’ll see how she’s doing when the tourist season dies down though.

And last, but certainly not least (although kind of least in that it’s a teeny tiny), is this little kitty at the garden center! She was such an itty bitty, and after my darling husband, who is a high level cat charmer, played a long patience game, the kitty was snatched!

I obviously wanted to steal her too, but alas, we returned her to the jungle. If you look into my eyes, you can see the joy almost smothering the extreme exhaustion and bad mattress depression I was suffering from at at the time.

Bad mattress depression is when sleeping is your life’s highest priority but your mattress is so bad that it’s ruining your life. Current medications make it nearly impossible for me to cry, but I desperately wanted to every night when I sat down on that mound of demon’s bones and again when I woke up, sore and more tired than I was the night before.

Soon after this, I was lucky enough to be able to raid my personal savings account for a much better mattress. The sleeping situation still isn’t ideal, as we got the same size (too small), but at least it’s not actively hurting me.

Wow, that got dark. I said that was the last cat, and I meant it. But to cheer you back up, here’s a surprise special guest in the form of a street bunny in Chania. I’m mad that I can’t remember his name, but he just chills there being all cute and soft. I made a small donation to his produce fund and was rewarded with the opportunity to run my hams through his glorious fur.

Worry not, dear kitty lovers, I have approximately one million more cats to share with you! I have tails of Ron, who can’t breathe so good through his nose and always has his tongue sticking out. Then there’s Chad, who we thought was a vegetarian, but it turns out she’s just a pescatarian like our friend Chad at home.

Until next time! Let me know if there’s any specific subjects you’d like me to cover or information you are dying to know.