Mačka

"Damnit," Ryan wined, tossing his hand out the window, "the road is blocked."

We had been driving down the back roads outside Zagreb for nearly two hours in hopes of spotting an old Spomenik when our GPS routed us to a bridge that was occupied for a war ceremony. Men in military attire stood upright like tight, plastic dolls, holding one hand to their forehead and the other on an assault rifle. Cars pulled off to the side, waiting in one long line.

"It's okay, honey. It will pass soon." I said, tucking a strand of Ryan's beautiful curly hair behind his ear and then kicking my feet up onto the dashboard.

It did not pass soon. And Ryan and I quickly ran out of things to chit-chat about as we anxiously waited for the line to start moving. This was the only road to our destination. I pulled out a cigarette and put it to my lips, shrugging at Ryan. He tossed me a lighter and followed me outside. We both leaned back on the rental car, blowing smoke out into the pristine Croatian countryside.

Suddenly, a tiny stray kitten approached me at my feet. She was fluffy and dainty and looked up at me to cradle her. Her fur was a beautiful array of different shades of grey-- charcoal on the outer edges and a light silver in the middle towards her face. Her eyes were big and a beautiful, sparkling shade of emerald. I handed the cigarette to Ryan and picked up the kitten. She immediately nuzzled her nose into the crease of my arm and fell asleep, purring.

I am not a cat person-- I've actually never been a cat person, but this little kitten was cute enough to melt the stone-cold hearts of Croatian cops who stood by and watched our relationship develop. One of the officers said to me, in broken English, "You should take her home with you. She really likes you. Croatia has enough stray cats."

I looked up at my boyfriend, Ryan, and he shook his head, laughing. "How are we going to take that little fluff back to the US?" I wasn't sure. I just knew, looking at her sleeping in my arms, that we had to try. "What if she has fleas, or she's sick. Come on, baby, I know she's cute, but we have a bunch more places to travel to." Ryan continued, constantly supplying the words of wisdom.

I looked at her little wet nose and took a deep breath. I placed her back on the ground, whispering "Mačka," one of the first Croatian words I learned. The ceremony started to dissipate, and the soldiers marched off the bridge, clearing a way for our cars. Ryan took a sigh of relief, and I looked at the little kitten on the cold ground, rolled up into a ball. She didn't move from where I placed her.

"Come on," Ryan said, cranking his neck towards our car.

I stood outside, frozen, until I said, "Remember how you said I get one crazy free-be--like, no questions asked sort of deal?" I reminded him.

He smiled, scratching his chin. "You want the cat?"

"I want the cat," I begged. My eyes welled up as I awaited his response.

We stood there for a moment, watching the cars move forward. Thinking. The friendly cop who told me to keep the kitten gave me a thumbs up. Ryan threw his hands in the air, "Grab her and let's go." He finally said, smiling widely. At that moment, I never knew I could love two things so much in my life.

*** We took the kitten with us on our adventure to the Spomenik, and then we researched like crazy on how to eventually take her home back to the US with us. We had to get her proper shots and paperwork and pay fees, and it was difficult but so worth it! We love her so much, and she has changed both of our lives for the better. During Covid, when Ryan and I were locked inside, she would lie on my chest and help my anxiety tremendously. I don't think we would have gotten through this year as positive as we did if it were not for her. And yes, we named her Mačka, which is Croatian for Cat.