Cutest darn thief I’ve ever seen
Yesterday’s breakfast. It’s a tough life at the moment.
Turkey would not be a good place for a celiac, the thought occurred to me (for the twentieth time this trip) when the waiter brought my sandwich, chicken and peppers hidden somewhere in half a loaf of French bread. I recently resolved to try a gluten-free month (to see if it helps with the sensation that my nasal passages have closed in the last few years), but my experiment will not begin in this country, where the day moves from one heaped basket of bread to another.
Antalya Harbor
In the meantime, the bread is just one of the many things I love about Turkey. I love the ubiquitous tea and how the tulip glasses feel in my hand, the stunning landscape and tangible history. I love the incredible generosity and kindness of the people (which require separate posts). I love the architecture, the music, and the Call to Prayer. I love the language, with its inscrutable structure and affricate crunches. I love the old women in headscarves who smile with crinkled eyes, and the startled pleasure when I trot out my few fumbling Turkish phrases. I love the non-numerous and universally peaceful dogs…and I love the cats.
The cats. Turkey has cats. Lots and lots of cats.
Probably the scruffiest cat I’ve seen; most of them are remarkably healthy looking.
Islam seems a little torn about dogs, some jurists declaring them “unclean” while Koranic teachings explicitly instruct kindness and compassion for dogs (as all animals). Cats on the other hand, get a meticulously clean rap sheet; Mohammed (PBUH) loved his cat, and Turks seem happy to do likewise. As I type this on the bed, just prior to checkout, one of the neighborhood’s semi-stray cats has wandered in and made a nest for herself.
This fella and his twin were very interested in my hotel room
When the waiter delivered that mega-sandwich, we were sitting on a riverside deck, sun in the air, ducks in the water, and cats all around. They watched the waterfowl, they watched each other, they watched the waiter. They snuzzled any hand and squinted their pleasure in every direction. I was hefting my loaf/sandwich for a photo when one jumped in my lap, and my brother has excellent timing.
Thief! Sneaky, adorable, purring thief!
So … are you hearing many songbirds? Just wondering, with all the cats.
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That was a good question, and I started paying more attention to it after that. I’m not sure how many birds Istanbul and those towns would have had otherwise, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of birds, no.
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Adorable!
I have to confess a particular fondness for raccoons and their kin who’re caught swiping food, though. There’s something so wonderfully personal in it.
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I completely agree. I was very into those fries, but couldn’t begrudge him for his success. I kicked him right out of my lap, but….you know…lovingly.
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Cats were the reason I immediately felt at home in Istanbul. That, and the fact that Turkey may just be one of the only countries left in the world that still welcomes Pakistanis with open arms and hearts. 😛
I have a picture of myself carrying a cat around in my arms in Ephesus, stashed away in my Turkey album from 1995.
Kudos to bro for capturing that shot!
p.s. new to your blog and love it already….thanks for ‘liking’ one of my posts and leading me to yours 😉
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Yikes, I am embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t aware of anti-Pakistani sentiment, anywhere other than the obvious places like Kashmir. If you’re ever in my town, you’re welcome in my house!
And thank you for reading it, and I’m enjoying your posts as well.
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Tim, I remember the Istanbul dogs in particular, and how well taken care of they seemed to be. Around our hotel anyway, the cats probably laid low due to the presence of the dogs. Perhaps the cats had their own hotels staked out.
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So true! The dogs of Istanbul were positively Zen. Just hanging out in peaceful packs, working on PhDs in sunbathing.
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