greek animal stories

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Meet Jack and Rose, the kittens that inspired my new short story, Kitty Heaven

From left: Rose and Jack. Jack was highly strung, making shrill sounds all the time, and he could be a bully to his sister during their meals as well. This photo portrays him just right LOL

On a Sunday morning in 2002, my husband, Andy, and I awoke in our rented apartment in the Athens suburbs after a thunderstorm that had raged all night. It caused a great downpour.

Our small neighborhood seemed sleepy that early morning. No one was about on the street below and hardly any cars passed by. Maybe, that was the reason why the odd, loud cries we suddenly heard from the sodden field adjacent to our building were so easily carried in the air, reaching our appartment on the second floor.

Intrigued, we got out onto the balcony and quickly deciphered that the persistent cries of distress were cat sounds made by kittens. They seemed too frail to be made by adult cats.

Being a cat lover since childhood, I felt I had no other choice. In a flash, I was dressed and hurrying down to the ground floor, then making a beeline for the field.

Trudging through wet, tall grass, trying to locate the kittens on a cool early morning of late winter was not exactly pleasant, but at least, I didn’t have to look for long.

I found two ginger kittens curled up together on the soggy, muddy ground, their mouths gaping open as they screamed cries of help. Their mother was nowhere to be seen, so I had no choice but to take them home with me.

I will never forget the look on their faces the moment their wet, exhausted little bodies came into contact with warm water.

When I placed them in my hands belly-up, one at a time, and immersed them in the water slowly to give them a bath, their faces opened like a flower. It was a sudden release–from their ordeal, from their tension, from their angst. As I bathed them, they kept still and quiet,  all four legs stretched out, paws up in the air. And with their eyes half-closed, they seemed ready to fall asleep.

All sorts of dirt and plant debris–and even one dead fly, as I recall–came off their fur to be released into the water. In no time, they were like two fluffy balls that smelled sweetly, drying in a thick towel.

Feeding them afterwards was entertaining to watch. Let’s just say that the kittens–one male, one female–lapped up milk and ate tuna like they’d never drunk or eaten anything before. They were famished. The male one kept hissing when his sister tried to eat anywhere near him and acted all crazy, making us laugh. He insisted on stepping on the saucer, to make sure he was closest to the food. We had to intervene to allow his sister to eat some of the sustenance. 

When they later fell asleep on a rug before the window pane, my heart melted. As I watched them sleep, now all clean, well-fed and blissful, the sunshine falling on their bodies, their rounded tummies rhythmically rising and falling, I fell in love.

But, alas, the landlady did not allow pets in the building. So, even though we loved having them around for a few days–under our landlady’s nose–we knew we couldn’t keep them. We began to ask around, trying to find them homes, and we gave them names too…

At the time, James Cameron’s movie “Titanic” was quite recent, and a favorite of ours. So, we named the kittens Jack and Rose. We’d found them soggy to the bone, after all–much like the characters in the movie had to be once they got in the water 😛

Thankfully, a lady I knew from childhood–a widowed octagenarian at the time–expressed the wish to take both the kittens off our hands. She had a garden, and her little grandchildren visited often. She said the kittens would keep her company, and the kids would love having them around during their visits, too.

So, that was what we did. We let the nice old lady I knew all my life take our darling kittens off our hands. And we didn’t regret it. But did I forget Jack and Rose? Nuh-uh.

In case you’re wondering how a writer’s mind works to find inspiration, here’s the truth: A writer’s mind is like a cauldron, where everything they ever see, hear and feel ends up. All the deep joys and pains of life get in there too, and everything gets nicely stirred up together, making all possible combinations.

Oftentimes, these things mix over the years in a way that the writer can no longer tell if something was really all that joyful or all that painful, after all. And, each time they seek inspiration, a writer will dip a finger in the cauldron to have a little taste. Sometimes, they will dip a whole ladle in the ‘soup’. More often than not, they are astonished by what comes out. Fiction writing, when done right, can never be a conscious process. It takes you by surprise. Every time.

Such was the case when I was inspired one day to write a Christian short story about a recently widowed mother and her little girl, who struggled to learn how to live with their devastating loss. Before I knew it, I was giving them two angels of mercy, in the form of two kittens, and writing about Jack and Rose, whom they found in a sodden field after a deluse.

As I said, you use a ladle… and you never know what’s going to be caught up in it. And so it happened this time, but in the story, the ending is different. This is fiction, after all.

Today, I’m pleased to present my short story, Kitty Heaven, which is on preorder on Amazon at $0.99.

The launch date is May 18.

If you enjoy cute pet stories, or family tales about faith and finding joy after loss, you’re bound to love it. It has a paranormal twist, which is portrayed from a Christian perspective.

NEW! $0.99 on preorder!

A Christian short story about an orphan girl, her widowed mother, and two rescued kittens. Pet fiction with a paranormal twist and a perfect, happy ending.

A widowed mother and her little girl rescue two kittens. Or is it the other way round?

Liza, a recently widowed mother, is finding it hard to cope after the loss of her husband, and to raise their little daughter, Myrto, on her own. After a thunderstorm that rages overnight, mother and daughter wake up in their rented apartment to hear desperate crying coming from a field below their balcony. And, just like that, they become the eager saviours of two small kittens, but the owner of the building does not allow pets.

Is there a way they can keep them, since they seem to inject into their lives joy and laughter–the very things they have been so deprived of after their devastating loss? As for their loving husband and father, he seems to have a plan, and he sets it in motion from behind the veil…

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Swallow baby boom, hunting cats and glass stickers. A fun post.

 

Swallow baby boom

One swallow does not make a spring, they say. But what about two nests brimming over with swallow babies?

That’s right. Next door to me, on the porch of my parents’ house, swallows have come and gone for years now. Two nests remain there all year to be filled again and again every spring. Sometimes, they claim just one, and sometimes both.

I don’t know what happened this spring, but both the nests have been claimed and they are both filled with babies!

In the picture above, you can see one of the two nests on my parents’ porch.

The result? A small murmuration of swallows keeps busy flying here and there all day, bringing sustenance to the little ones. I can count 4-6 birds swooping over my head at any one time, whenever I visit the porch next door.

They have been particularly more daring this year, flying low over our heads when we are in the garden near the nests. Sometimes, they perch on cabling overhead, peering at us, whereas in other years they would fly off the moment they saw us approach.

One morning, I was milling about in the garden, really early in the morning, and I thought I’d go see the nests. It was about ten days ago when none of the babies had flown out the nest yet.

Well, to my surprise, I found one baby on the ground! And I am so glad I checked as I don’t normally do that, so early in the morning. It was a fully formed swallow, with its wings all perfect, but it was just smaller, naturally.

It was standing on the ground, totally still, and it looked pristine, so my first reaction was relief, seeing that I have two avid feline hunters around and a very inquisitive doggie–my parents’ dog, Gino, that I have ‘taken under my wing’ (pun intended) since they passed away.

Anyway, I went closer to catch the baby bird, and it hopped away from my grasp, moving toward a large table. I panicked in case it hid somewhere out of my reach, so on my second attempt I really went for it and caught it in time.

The moment I trapped it inside my loose fist it calmed down and totally stopped thrashing.

Thinking quickly, I then went next door to my house and took one of my cat-carrying bags to keep it safe. Putting it inside proved tricky.

The baby seemed too scared to let go of my hand. It had curled its little claws all around one finger and wouldn’t let go. I had to shake it off my finger gently while giving it a little nudge with my other hand to transfer it to the bottom of the bag.

Once it was secure in there, I put the pet bag on a table before the window, so the baby could see the sunlight. It sat calmly looking from behind the mesh.

And then, I got to work…

The problem was I needed help to put the baby back up in the nest. They are located really high, you see, on the level of a tall ceiling, and because of a health issue I cannot lift any heavy weight. That meant I could not move the really tall ladder needed for the task.

Plus, I didn’t want to wait till my husband came back from work in the late afternoon to do it for me, as I worried the baby wouldn’t make it without food all these hours.

A couple of phonecalls later, I found a kindly neighbor to come and help. As he lifted the heavy ladder to place it under the nest, he told me the swallow nests are considered good luck for the home in his country of Albania.

This made me smile, as my mother and father also thought that. They had swallows return for many years, not just to their house here but also to their country home on the island of Limnos where my father came from.

So, anyway, my neighbor first checked the nest from which the baby had fallen–I knew which one it was because I’d found it on the ground directly under it–but that one was so full of babies that it was obvious why it had fallen. It probably got squeezed straight out by its siblings. So, the nice man put it in the other nest that was luckily less full.

I thanked him and we both went our way, and I hoped the baby would be fed soon as I didn’t know for how long it had been on the ground. I was worried the parents might not feed it, as I understand sometimes wild creatures abandon the young that have been touched by humans. I hear we humans leave quite a stench to the things we touch–at least, to their nostrils 🙃

I also worried it might fall again, in case it had actually tried to fly while not being ready yet. Perhaps, I imagined, I was unlucky enough to save the most overconfident swallow that ever lived 😅

But, anyway,  I worried for nothing. In the afternoon, my husband and I witnessed the babies being fed busily by their parents in both nests.

A couple days later, the oddest thing happened. I was on my porch, putting clothes on the line, and one swallow came to perch on a cable near my porch, almost at eye level.

It just sat there watching me, not in the least skittish about me being so close and gazing back at it.

I like to think it could smell me, perhaps, and knew it was I that had saved the baby. Maybe, it had come to check me out, or perhaps, even to chirp a little thank you to me 🦜

What do you guys think? I could be imagining things! Or, perhaps, as my husband often tells me, I am humanizing, as always, the way I forever humanize the cats and the dog, by trying to explain their behavior in human terms. I do admit… I am guilty as charged!

 

This is an old photograph taken by my mother at the porch of their house on the island of Limnos, where they used to spend much of every spring and all their summers during their retirement.

As you can see, the swallows came for a visit there too, though these do not look like typical swallows to me, seeing that they have these striking white lines on their heads and these nice brown shades. The swallows we have here in my town are the common house martins–they have black on their backs, white underneath, and no white lines on their heads.

Anyone recognize these birds? I’d love to know what swallow species they are. I am guessing they are a less common species for Greece.

As it turns out, there are five different swallow species that are  common in Greece:  the red-rumped swallow, the barn swallow, the common house martin, the sand martin, and the Eurasian crag martin.

The first three species have mainly black and white colors while the last two also have brown or gray shades.

Four of these five species make nests high above the ground using mud and dry plant fibers. The shape of the nest varies among the species. The sand martin is the only one that makes holes in the ground to make a nest, usually near water.

Greek law forbids the destruction of swallow nests, and the punishment is up to 1,000 euro fine and 1 year in jail! Many people, sadly, mind the visit of these intelligent, minute creatures and heartlessly destroy their nests on their walls.

I cannot imagine ever being bothered by the swallows’ sweet and busy song. It is rich in my ears every morning when I go out on my porch. It’s the sweetest goodmorning ever.

The only thing that seems a little bothersome is the small mount of poo that gathers under the nests, but a sheet of cardboard or a scrap of old cloth on the ground fixes that. And if it is built over furniture, perhaps, then one could place a makeshift shelf underneath the nest using a plank of wood and fix this problem.

The swallows arriving in Greece fly across the Mediterranean from Africa and can even fly back and forth from Siberia. And, these delicate little creatures have quite the stamina. They can fly across the Mediterranean in just one day!

In contrast to other migrating birds, the swallows only fly in the day, and pause to rest in different places during their journey.

Last, you may be surprised to learn that swallows don’t feed from the ground, but only during flight, catching bugs mid-air!

 

I recently installed these stickers on my living room window. The flowers went in first, just for fun, and then, I got the hummingbirds too, this time for a specific reason. I wanted to protect the swallows and sparrows that are prolific where I live.

Earlier this month, a little bird, probably a sparrow, perhaps blinded by the glare of the evening sun on the glass, hit it hard mid-flight.

I was in another room at the time and came straight out to see what the thud was about. It was pretty loud. I hoped it wouldn’t be a bird, as this had happened twice before over the years, before I even had cats, and when I saw what it was my heart sank.

By the time I got there, one of my cats–the younger one, Sissi–had already snatched the poor soul. She catches birds with gusto, and she’s really good at it. So, as sad as I was, I wasn’t surprised…

I managed to catch only a glimpse of the birdie lying still in her mouth, and I couldn’t save it, as Sissi then ran off with the bird and there was nothing I could do about it.

It broke my heart so much I knew I had to do something.

Happy to report I haven’t had any more mishaps since installing the stickers. I really hope they will deter the birdies from flying that way again.

In the first day or two, my cats, Sissi and her mommy, Loulou, sat and gazed at the hummingbirds from time to time, and also raised their paws, trying to catch them. Now, they coexist peacefully, as you can see.

And, if they mind these birds are made of plastic I’d rather they feel a little peeved than snatch another birdie while I’m watching. It’s not always easy being a cat mamma!

Till next time, enjoy this glorious summer and reading awesome stories!😀

 

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