Kedi Page #2

Trouble for all the fishermen.

A fish thief.

Arch enemy of the dogs.

Shell chase any of them, even pit bulls.

She's the neighborhood psychopath.

She doesnt like soft love.

She likes tough love.

Shell start from the top of the church

and patrol the whole place.

Shes a very interesting animal.

The only thing shell steal is fish.

Shell stand in front

of the fish vendors over there

refusing to leave

even if they shoo her away.

She wont take anchovies

or mackerel either, she prefers bluefish.

Then shell make

the fishermen chase her all the way here.

She likes to live a life of luxury.

She even makes her husband respect her.

She chases him off.

Shes leaving so he can eat.

Now, Osman Pasha gets his turn.

She doesnt want to

lose him to anyone else either.

Girls prettier than Psycho

have come around, right?

Theres an instinctive jealousy.

Shes like a vicious housewife.

A jealous housewife

who doesnt leave her husband alone.

And doesnt let

anyone else near him either.

She comes around

when she wants to be loved.

Gets her fill of love and leaves.

But I cant do as I please.

I grabbed her tail, she bit my hand.

But she does as she wishes.

Thats very important to me.

That she never compromises her freedom.

She has a fighting spirit.

Thats what I like.

She has qualities that people should have.

Their posture feels very feminine to me.

I dont see that elegance in women anymore.

Weve lost that,

but cats carry themselves so well.

Especially in this country,

in a city like this...

its very difficult

to be a woman, to be female.

To express your femininity,

to be defiant with your femininity.

Being female

and if youre a "pretty little thing"

you feel like you have

to account for all of it.

When youre alone for long periods

your animal instincts get sharper.

I really believe that.

Maybe its a quality that

should be developed more in all of us.

As if its better to be so human, so modern.

Theres a power you can feel

within yourself, of a wild creature.

I think everyone needs

to discover that in themselves.

Cats are satisfied with their existence.

And theyre very sure of their character.

But its not enough for us.

We always want more.

That mentality poisons us

and destroys everything.

And maybe in the near

future, in two or three years

we may no longer see cats on these streets.

They all have personalities, like people.

If you look closely, were the same.

Some want affection,

others will tell you all their troubles.

Some are discreet,

wont talk about anything.

Others are ambitious.

And some are pompous...

like a lady

who cant be bothered to say hello.

Cats are exactly the same.

Some wont even look when I call to them.

I believe they share

the same traits as people.

Deniz!

Deniz!

He was a tiny little thing.

He looked down at me from up there.

We wondered

where this beat-up little guy came from.

I brought him down from the roof.

Who knows where he came from.

Being a young male,

he attacked us at first.

A couple of months later,

he started approaching us for food.

Once we could stroke him, he was tamed.

Now hes become a very friendly cat.

It all changed over the last

five years, when these buildings went up.

It used to be all green here.

There were orchards,

and gardens where theyd grow crops.

When these buildings went up,

it all disappeared no nature left.

Oh dear.

Look at them, seven plump kittens!

These kittens...

itll be a shame if they tear this place down.

I dont know what well do.

This will be a major road.

They want to connect these buildings.

Were more worried

about whatll happen to the cats

than what might happen to us.

If this area gets demolished,

and that's likely, they won't have anyone.

At some point, they miss the streets.

They can find some earth out here.

To do their business.

Its harder to do that

in a house with cat litter.

But out here they dig it up.

Oh no, where did he come from?

- An older cat got to him in the backyard.

- Oh sweetie.

- I immediately thought of you.

- What are we going to do with you?

You poor, poor thing.

Is he gone, I wonder. Is he dead?

He must have slammed him against

the ground got attacked by a bigger cat.

Its a fact of nature. It happens.

This one was my first child.

She was special

not only because she was my first

but also because she had great character.

She died of breast cancer.

I would dress her

to keep her from licking her wounds.

I tried very hard

to find a cat like her again...

but I came to realize that it

was futile, that she was one of a kind.

My longing for her...

lets just say if there is afterlife,

I want to meet her again, not my grandmother.

We cook twenty pounds

of chicken every day.

We dont feed them

dried cat food or anything artificial.

My therapist says I try to heal

my own wounds by healing theirs.

By feeding them

and tending to their needs.

My wounds must be so deeply rooted

they still havent healed despite all this.

I guess Ill heal when they heal.

There was a time

I had great difficulty dealing with death.

I accept death as a reality...

but I have difficulty

dealing with the longing.

Thats my problem with death.

Now well go out

to distribute the morning meal.

This is our daily routine,

seven days a week, including Sundays.

Wait honey, wait.

Come, come my girl.

My little darlings.

Come, Ive got your food!

There were sixty

but five died in the last two weeks.

And its always cancer.

We say it happens to people,

but it happens to animals too.

We eat and drink the same -

the same food, the same water.

We've raised a lot of cats.

Some grew old and died,

quite a few got run over.

We learned that something you

love can one day cease to exist.

We adopted a sense of stoicism that way.

We had a cat cemetery in the backyard.

My older brother and I would

bury them with great ceremony.

And because wed see crosses in cowboy movies

like that last scene

in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

we thought they looked impressive.

Were not Christian,

but they look cool in movies

and because we werent

about to engrave tiny gravestones

wed make crosses out of twigs.

Then one day our father saw us

and freaked out over the crosses.

Immediately sent us to Quran school

so that we wouldnt suddenly turn Christian.

We told him not to worry, obviously.

If I hadnt had cats,

I wouldve had a very troubled childhood

because interacting

only with people is not enough

and especially difficult with grown-ups.

I love cats who hang out in

vintage stores, "hmm the smell of paper"

stretching out among old LPs.

Its especially satisfying when Im sketching

she sleeps in the drawer

like a vintage store cat.

I check the drawer once in a while

"OK, shes still asleep"

And I carry on working.

Because drawing is such isolating work,

a sleeping cat can really give you comfort.

Any ungrateful behavior on their

part is really an act of sincerity.

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