Monday, September 14

I know that I know nothing

Many of the beliefs traditionally attributed to the historical Socrates have been characterized as "paradoxal" because they seem to conflict with common sense.

Our life with the cat "Sokrates" from 1987 to 1994 was often felt as conflicting with common sense. He was a very wise cat and lots of stories can be told about him, not only by family members but also by friends and people being in contact with him.

Sokrates lived every year 9 months in our down town apartment and three months "free" in the wilderness at our cottage. In the city we called him "King of the road" sitting at the balcony fence watching the street-trafic and activity in the neighborhood. He once, but only once, jumped down to join the children playing in the garden under the balcony. Lesson learned after falling 5 meters. At the cottage he came and went through a small glimpse at a loft-window, guarding our estate as the custodian of Tullarbo.

Sokrates could count. When the door bell rang, he counted the number of family members. If we all were present he disappeared, but if one of us were away he was ready to give his utmost welcome by rolling on his back inside the door opening. When we left him at the cottage, he followed us howling down to the car parking, and when returning he was there to meet us any time of the day or night. Once we had been away two weeks on holiday to Greece, he welcomed us in the middle of the night and left the neighbors (temporary feeding / taking care of him) immediately without looking in their directions at all. He knew where his master - Trine - lived.

He slept all nights at the foot end of Trines bed, but first he was lying in my bed waiting for me to go to bed. When he understood that I was moving towards my bed, he hid exactly in the centre of the two diagonals under our double-bed where I could not reach him. Playing in the time for me going to sleep, was not my favorite, but nevertheless I had to chase him every evening before he moved into Trines room.

In the Dialogues of Plato, Socrates (the philosopher) often seems to support a mystical side, discussing reincarnation and the mystery religions. Our cat Sokrates was no reincarnation of the ancient Greek (I believe?), but lot of memories connected to him seem to conflict with common sense. And as his famous name-brother he left our world through injection of deep sleeping poison under veterinarian control in the arms of his most beloved master.

Finding Sokrates´ photo when cleaning up old stuff opened memories and gave background for this post. We have never added another cat to our estates, although Rikke have had and has cats (Taxi, Emil and Ida) at their home.

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