My Communist Tabby

I consider starting a new post series on my blog about my experience with the communist Bulgaria, between 1979 and 1989. The idea is inspired by a book I’m currently reading, but more about the book once I finish it.

The story today is about my first cat. She was a tabby with lots of white, not as much as the cat above but you get the idea. The year is 1987 or 1988.

My brother got her from a friend without permission, let her home, and she hid behind some furniture for hours. She was probably 4-5 months old at the time. Our parents weren’t too happy about it but played cool and let us have her. We were super happy, must’ve played with her for hours every day. She loved playing, loved chasing walnuts, and was overall a very energetic animal who seeked attention. My hands had some constant 10-20 scratches at any time as she was always sharp and ready for battles.

Our plays didn’t sit well with the neighbor from the floor below. Now that I have kids of my own, I can imagine the noise we made with the cat and all these walnuts and tennis balls. The neighbor’s response to the issue, however, was that he would yell at us, threaten us, and he tried to enter our place several times. One time, he kicked the door while my brother was on the other side, and opened a large wound on his forehead. My parents called the police. A very large officer showed up and interviewed us, then left. I still remember some very uncomfortable questions for my age, like exact words of the insults the neighbor was screaming. Also, the size of that officer was stunning for us. Obesity in communist Bulgaria was uncommon because people didn’t have all that much food. We were all thin.

There were no follow-ups, we reduced the number of rolling toys, and the neighbor banged on the door less often after that. My brother’s would healed. Cat kept finding walnuts for months after, I guess she had a secret stash in difficult to reach places.

She disappeared about a year later, apparently she got sick or poisoned during our summer break. Looking back, I suspect her diet might not have been very healthy as we didn’t have cat food. She would eat things like bread, milk, yogurt, and occasional canned fish. Wouldn’t be surprised if she suffered the health consequences for eating bread and not enough taurine. We were unaware of any of that at the time, Internet didn’t exist, and there were no vets for pets anywhere to be found either. Cat food as a concept didn’t exist either. Stores would sell essentials only – bread, milk, flower, sugar, and so on, and they would run out, so you’d have to wait on a queue or go at specific days or hours.

Having another cat after I became an adult showed me how much food a healthy cat needs and how large they can get. So poor thing, didn’t last long with us but at least, she was loved and played a lot.