Cats
Cats are everywhere in Istanbul.
Cruelty
Mostly, the the feline and human populations of Istanbul ignore one another. But on the crowded sidewalk outside the train station an orange cat walks regally among the people, its long banner of a tail held high, showing more than a little Angora lineage. A man, passing the cat, reaches down as if to stroke it. But the cat senses something amiss. It starts to run, but not fast enough. The man grabs hold of the tail and swings the cat in a large vertical circle like a nightmare ferris wheel, once, twice, three times.
I am transfixed in horror.
The man lets go, launching the cat in a long arc.
The cat was lucky. It landed on its feet and ran. The man walked on as if nothing had just happened.
Score One for the Cats
The next evening found us eating at a neighborhood restaurant near our hotel, a tiny spot with only six or eight tables outdoors and a small kitchen open to the sidewalk. We had chanced by there in the afternoon, and the friendly proprietor allowed me to photograph his display case of fresh fish.
Language was not a barrier; we picked the fish we wanted from the display case. Two or three cats had staked the place out, almost but not quite friendly enough to let the neighborhood guys hanging out at the table nearest the kitchen to pet them. Suddenly, there was shouting! A cat flashed by us with a whole fish in her mouth. Dinner for the family had been obtained!
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