catfrontation

panayiotis on the (l)edge

You can laugh all you want, but I think the website has generated some interest. Suddenly, after living all his life in the relative isolation of a small apartment, Paschalis has made some friends, feline friends, the strays who operate in the vicinity of my building and the unoccupied lot behind it (they have turned the half-constructed block of flats over there into their πολυγατοικία).

There have been some other visitors in the past to the balcony (access is a matter of three simple jumps: wall, ledge, balcony). Most memorably, there was a striped orange cat I predictably called Mr. Portokalis, who scratched my little P on the chin and edged him off the balcony. I had to go down and retrieve him from the garden below. He was almost unrecognizable – shaking, bleeding, reeking with all the hormones and scents he had released.

It was an isolated event.

Mr. Portokalis had proven his point, I assume, and never bothered to return. Eventually, Paschalis regained his sense of authority and resumed his nightly balcony patrols. He kept a close watch on all the cats of the neighborhood, his vigils were intent and enduring, but he never showed any interest in leaving his domain or venturing into theirs.

In the past month, however, he’s had quite a few uninvited guests. It started with his double, a cat colored just the same as he, except that God got bored at some point and left one leg completely blank, white, unpainted. This cat has come to be known as White Leg, which is also the warning cry sounded whenever he is found on the balcony, intimidating poor Paschalis, who tries to avoid trouble by hiding under the laundry.

The new cat is Panayiotis. He is more persistent than any other; he spends whole days and nights on the balcony, bathing, taking naps, meowing to himself or maybe to Paschalis through the glass doors. He has made himself quite at home. He has even assumed Paschalis’ patrols, pacing back and forth, surveying the land, while poor Paschalis lingers, on edge, indoors -- indignant, ever vigilant, but completely unable to summon the courage to cross the threshold and displace the cat that displaced him.

I wonder what all these cats are thinking. Paschalis is obviously the fattest, healthiest, luckiest cat in the neighborhood. He has also been neutered, so his ambiguous sex may be a point of some fascination. All the visiting cats have been male, so I wonder what they’re really after –- his territory, his food, his body? Maybe just his company.