The Cat In My Hat and other stories

Part I: The Cat In My Hat

Friday night, I left the AH and walked out into the snow. About fifty yards down the sidewalk from the AH, a cat was sitting in the snow on the sidewalk. I've seen this kitty before; it looks a lot like Gosha, only smaller and with a fluffy tail. I don't know if it's one of the strays that has claimed the AH block of Letneperevozinskaya as it's territory, or if it actually has a home. Either way, the thing was out in the snow and fur or not, that's got to be cold. So I knelt down to pet it, and the thing immediately hopped into my squatty-lap and began purring. I petted it for a while and then decided to dislodge it and be on my way. But instead of hopping back into the snow, the kitty climbed up onto my shoulder, and when I tried to dislodge her, instead of falling onto the ground, she fell squarely into my hood. Now, this cat was no dummy. I mean, when given a choice between the snowy ground or a fuzzy, dry, fleece hood, which would you choose? I found that short of disrobing in the cold, or getting scratched all to hell, there was no way I could remove the purring bundle of fur from my hood. So, I turned around and went back to the AH, where Vanya (one of our security guards) promptly admonished me for bringing a strange cat to the house, and he refused to let me in. B took some pictures of the cat in my hat (which I will post as soon as she gives them to me), and G stole some of Gosha's cat food, which we used to convince the furry-purry that she really didn't want to remain in my hood for the rest of the evening.

Part II: Snow

So far, this most recent snowfall has stuck around. Saturday morning I took a bus down to Cathedral Square for the purpose of getting some snowbound shots of the ancient and famous cathedrals that I already have an entire folder of sun-shiny shots of. I also walked about the parks surrounding the cathedrals and amused myself by walking through vast, previously undisturbed patches of snow. (I grew up in Florida, so I have a bit of a child-like fascination with snow, despite the fact that this is my second Russian winter.) I was planning on posting the pics I took online, but somehow I forgot to bring the Vladimir-in-the-snow images along. Check back tomorrow! I do, however, have an entirely unrelated shot of me and Gosha...

Part III: Swing Dancing

B gave her presentation Saturday afternoon on Swing Dancing, which is something she does in the US. It was an excellent presentation (on the history of the dance and how she got involved with it) and then she taught a lesson in how to dance to the students and teachers present. I, being rather a chicken, and knowing how horribly uncoordinated I am, opted for the role of paparazzi. Everyone had a great time, and everyone was laughing, giggling and grinning by the end. A definite success.

Part IV: Straw Kitten

In the early evening, K, M and I went to "Old Venice," one of the two pizza places in town (and while the pizzas don't taste quite like they do back home, they're still really damn tasty). While we were waiting for our pizzas to come out, a kitten (almost a full-grown cat really, but still at that stage when you can tell that it's fairly young) wandered out of the back and into the restaurant. This is one of those things that I love about Russia; you would never see a cat or kitten wandering around a restaurant or a store without the staff and/or clientele erupting into some sort of fit about sanitation or whatever. I mean, somehow I think the US Health Department frowns on cats in the kitchen. Obviously I've let my inner crazy-cat-lady out of the bag with this post, so it shouldn't surprise you to learn that I had no problem whatsoever with the kitten that first wandered the room and then sat itself in the empty chair next to K. It was fascinated with the things on our table, and looked adorable as it watched us fiddle with our straws and bottle-caps. Of course, I decided to take a picture... and through sheer photographic luck I managed to snap its picture right as it lunged for K's straw. It managed to wrestle the straw from her cup, and played with it for nearly the entire time we were in the restaurant. It looked so happy, playing with that straw. I would love to be a cat. It would be wonderful be able to feel such sheer pleasure from something so simple.