European Aminals are just as cute

by janet on June 1st, 2010

Because dealing with the 1000+ photos from my Spain trip is overwhelming me, and because I just had to kill the hugest spider in my shower (I WAS NAKED! IT COULD HAVE CRAWLED INTO MY VAGINAAA!) with my bare hands (IT HURTED MY PALM! DID IT BITE ME AS IT DIED OR WERE ITS LEGS JUST SHARP? EITHER WAY, AAAAAUGH!), I am unable to properly blog any real part of my LA-London-Madrid-Toledo-Barcelona-Mallorca-London-LA trip. So I am going to kick off my series of Europe posts with the various animals I encountered. The series started because The Kraken (my new camera) has a pet setting, where one is to choose whether it’s a dog or a cat, and whether it’s a light-, medium-, or dark-furred thing.  Love it!

First up – the cats that look like cows!  Cowts!  They were at R2′s friend Rog’s house in a freaking charming cottage outside of London. One was named Percy and one was named something else.  They were both aggressively friendly.  To the point where when I was lying down reading – BONK!  Desperately needing a head rub, Percy bashed his head against mine purring like a dragon with laryngitis.  Ow.  They also loooved rolling around (like dogs that roll around all over the grass to scratch their backs) on my pillow, greatly exacerbating my allergies.  Fucking rascals.

At this residence was another cute creature.

THAT’S NOT AN AMINALLL!  Get out of this post, rapscallion!

Next, we arrived at our destination of Espana – lovely, lovely Espana. We didn’t encounter any animals in Madrid, our first stop.

But in Toledo, shoot.

On the windy (windy as in winding as in curving, not windy as in blustery – yeah that confused me too in the guidebook) and impossibly narrow streets of Toledo, we encountered this sad/bored pupersons.  Sad/bored also means sitting still, which was good for the photo.

We found this tiny Basement Cat in a gift shop just off the Plaza de Zocodover. When you got near him with an outstretched hand, he would immediately flip onto his back for a belly rub.  See how his tail is also wagging, doglike.  Squee.  The shopkeeper was so enamored of and distracted by his own pet that he utterly failed to talk me into purchasing Toledo purse hooks as gifts for my girlfriends.

Contrary to what was written in our guidebook, Toledo was a fucking ghost town after 9 pm.  To the point where it was kind of eerie.  And then – perfect!  A ghost dog!  I couldn’t even get a good picture of his face – that’s how ghostly he was.  I named him Casper-Marshmallow.

It was an animal field day in Barcelona, our next stop.  On the famous Ramblas, there were several pet stalls, hocking conventional wares like hamsters and boids (causing R2, a cockatiel owner, to continually emit small, delighted gasps followed by cries of  ”ohhhhhh!”), although some of the bird selections got super weird, like pigeons that sadly sat in their too-small cages while wild pigeons strutted about inches away, free.

Also – BUNNERSONS!

Basement Bun!  So fluffy I couldn’t stand it.  It brought back memories of Will the Wabbit, my pet in college, who loved my roommate more than he loved me and so I returned him.  (Actually, I returned him because of my heretofore undiagnosed extreme rabbit allergy.)

Also, look at this adorable Alien we found!

Mom, can we keep him?  MOoooOOOOM!  PLEEEEASE?

In the courtyard of the La Seu cathedral, we found a buncha geese. Apparently geese are too far from cockatiels to be interesting to R2 so he didn’t care, but I liked them.  They have been there for five centuries and are used as an ultra low-budg warning system against intruders.

Near  La Sagrada Familia were two awesome catches.  The first I named Big Cashew and we found him sitting near where we had a cafe solo and cafe con leche, respectively.  He was exceedingly mellow, good for photography.

Tinx likes it when dogs go gray/white in their fur from old age, so I am guessing she would have loved this puppers.

The next dog we saw from across the street.  The light had turned green so I had to get my shot in quick.  The dog was not old or mellow and was trotting hyperly towards me so this is all I got:

This one I named Cashew.  This is R2′s favorite photo.  I like it too, because it looks like I resized the photo but got the aspect ratio wrong so it’s squished, when that’s just what he looked like.  (All dogs are boys and all brown ones are named Cashew in my book.)

Gaudi, master architect genius/crazyperson, was also apparently a dog lover.  I know this because on the one facade (Nativity facade) that Gaudi worked on, I spied this:

You don’t see it?  Look closer.

Bam.  I named him Rocky-Cashew.  Oh, man, Rocky-Cashew – you got bird shit all over your face!

Up on Montjuic, we found two wild specimens.

I named them Sushi and Mochi, from left to right.  As I frantically stalked them with my camera, snapping a rapid succession of pictures, the people nearby got super interested in what I was photographing.  When they realized it was just cats, they were  a little bit angry with me for wasting their time.

Finally, in Mallorca, R2′s bird-spidey-sense tingled and he made us lunch al fresco at a restaurant that had this:

He was big!  I named him Big Bird.  When excited, he would release a eardrum-shattering SQUAWK and shift his weight from one foot to the other.  He would also show off by retrieving fallen seeds from the bottom of his cage through the grate.  R2′s boid Bootie has gout in one foot (she IS 23 years old, after all) and it’s frozen solid so she can’t pull tricks and shit like that.  So every time Big Bird did his trick we would shout “SHOW OFF!” in his direction.

In sum, I has confirmed that animals also exist on that side of the ocean, and I love them just as much.

Before I sign off, a great many thanks to Tinx and DJ Deer for their fantabulous guest posts, and Daniel for conceiving two posts without the proper gestation period.

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3 Responses to “European Aminals are just as cute”

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  2. [...] day, we took a walk down the Ramblas where we saw all manner of animal for sale.  But you already know all about that. We also went into La Boqueria market – an amateur food photographer’s [...]

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