Mirtos is a cats´ village. Countless cats live here: grey, black, red, white, striped, spotted in all possible variations - thick, thin, small, large. They lie on stairs, on chairs, on motorbikes, on cars, on garbage cans. They stroll through the narrow alleys, along the waterfront, loiter on trees and balconies, in flower boxes or on cushions that cat lovers have placed here and there. Some are shy, others cheeky, some look friendly, others grim. Many are peaceful, others real fighting cats. There is even an “upper class”: those whose territory includes a tavern. They look particularly well-fed.
In front of our apartment there is a small veranda with a table and three chairs. A little tomcat lives here. He is cute, wants to be stroked permanently, purrs at the slightest occasion - but he is very pushy.
If you sit down on a chair to tie the shoes, he squeezes between hands and shoelaces, trudges around on the shoes - and purrs and purrs and purrs. Once you have finally made it and get up, he pushes himself between your legs so that you can no longer put a foot in front of the other. We try to teach him manners with benevolent rigor. Difficult, really difficult. Now we put the shoes on in the apartment.
On the streets there are sometimes real spectacles. When cocky cats obsessively run up a tree trunk and then become quite thoughtful how to go down again, or when two enemies meet. Recently, two tomcats circled each other in slow motion and very short distance - meowing angrily and violently beating with their tails. For minutes. Then it started: loud screaming, and the two formed a raging and rolling tangle of fur, teeth and claws. Until a resolute lady scared them away. Luckily.
Kontakt:
Michael Meinert
Tel. +49 175 515 53 59
michael.meinert@textbuero-meinert.de
Fotos: Falls nicht anders angegeben
Iris Heymann-Meinert
Michael Meinert