PICOTIO&rosita

 

I know, I know this is a kinda corny video… but I like corny, I’m made of corn too.
 

MUSIC by Kina Grannis

Blue Spotted Tail – Fleet Foxes Cover   •   HERE <—- Kina playing it

 
 
Picotio's gone.
 
For some years I've been saying goodbye to a lot of cats… that sounds psycho.
Sooo many cute hungry non-stop-fury-babies… It is funny when you wake up surrounded by an army of micro-explorers that, first lick you, then bite you and finally sit in your face imitating a generator. They also have this strange urge to be constantly calling each others and their mother, who replies in a rather laughable style… never a father around (humm), Alfredo!!!
 
With all I played till fall asleep, me of course; it comes a time where they just incarnate the rabbit from duracell. Many times took them in my lap pretending they were babies, but ones I could spank, twist, hold by the back of the neck and finaly throw as a flying missile or simply drop onto the ground.
 
I've seen them become stronger, fatter – some in such a way I'll think their bellies are made of rubber – quicker, smarter (here comes the steal&hide department) and develop their own personalities. To all I said goodbye… and I was genuinely happy that they got to have a better new home.
 
Was never the plan for Picotio to stay more than a couple of weeks… but nevertheless he stayed all summer under close Rosita's supervision (and it's really SUPER vision). Now he’s gone to Daniela’s, who is going to take well care of him. I know I’ll never see him again… snif
 
•
 
That’s okay.
 
 
These past days I’ve been thinking about why it’s so hard for me to see them leaving. After deep frying diving into my soul I come to understand that I am afraid I will be not remembered when I’m gonne, dead. Which is a variation of ancient and almighty fear of being alone, of dying alone. That is what I found on the other side of the emotion… which makes sense with the words VP spit today after dinner:
 
 
uma partida é uma pequena morte                             a departure is a little death
uma partida é uma partida                                           a departure is a departure
tens que deixar ir                                                                     you have to let go
 
 
Okay so I put it out, now photos!!!
 
 
First, the past ones —-> MACRO ones  and —–> When I was shy, hi hi
 
 

Here’s + or – Picotio's daily agenda:

 
1st* and foremost, to eat my croquettes
2nd   to eat everybody else's croquettes
3rd  to check if there’s really nothing left
4th  start vacuuming the floors
5th  licking
6th  ask for food to all the tall uncomprehensive and non solidary beings
7th  insist so they understand the importance of me eating more
8th  I’ll kill you with my super deep begging
9th  running away before the chinelo (shoe danger) comes
10th  shleep
11th  see if other fellow cats shleeping
12th  wake up fellow cats
13th  play with everything forbiden
14th  dig out the nice dumpy earth the plants don’t really need
15th  sit&shit
16th  smell my beautifull creations
17th  scratch me and others
18th  hummmmm, in case of doubt, eat more!
19th  time to check white rectangle where I can press square little steps
20th  check on the balconies
21st  check on the bathroom
22nd  check under the beds
23rd  check… what was I loocking for???
24th  back to basics: I need food! almost an hour since I last ate, I’m dying here!
25th  stablish new relations with other cats, till they’re upset, mad or gone.
26th  just a quick shhleep
27th  oh yeah spank me right there, I’m happy!!! grgr grgrgrgr grgrgrgrgr
65th  let’s recheck that rope that goes up and down
89th  time to train our bird/fly/weirdness/etc language
106th  can I shleep siesta with you Rosita… ma’?
278th  the food, the foOD THE FOOD IS COMIIING!!!!
745th  back to 1st *
 
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gashô