Lola, the cat crazy about lettuce – 01/05/2024 – Cozinha Bruta

It’s not easy, guys.

I try to give birth to this column minutes after signing the euthanasia authorization for Lola, the black kitten who has kept me company for the last 12 years.

I wish I had the brains to work out gastronomic trends, echo Father Júlio’s CPI or drum up something silly about food. Foolish? Here I go, soaking the keyboard with tears again…

I apologize for being the person who succumbs to the temptation of a bad joke even in grief. And I apologize if I deliver a somewhat disjointed text. I’m not thinking straight.

Lola, you’ve probably noticed, that’s all that occupies my mind.

We (Mari, my ex) and I picked up this kitten from the same vet’s cattery where I left her today. He rescues and cares for animals that are abandoned in Água Branca Park.

Lola was the last puppy in her litter. All of her siblings had already been adopted, except her. She had been alone in a cage for a long time, she had already become a teenage kitten.

A beautiful gray kitten with yellow eyes, or so we thought.

We would soon learn that gray fur was visible because a fungal infection had left Lola bald. While we were dealing with the ringworm that infected us, it regained its shiny black covering.

I’ve had a few cats, but I haven’t gotten so attached to any other. Lolinha (or Lolita, Lolica, Lolô etc. etc.) helped me face a three-headed beast: separation, pandemic and depression, which arrived together and voracious.

It was months that turned into years and, in the end, here at home, it was just the two of us most of the time: Lola and me. I got used to it, I think she did too. I’m going to get used to it.

Earlier today, disturbed by the fixed thought that clouded my creativity, I threw the question into my best friends’ Zap group – everyone has a group like that, right?

Everyone agreed that I should write about Lola. About Lola and food. It’s a food column, they rightly argued.

“Isn’t she a fanatic about any food in particular?” asked one of the friends. I tried to combine lé with cré and cat with tuna salad, but it was difficult.

I realized that Lola wasn’t cool when she started refusing food. First the dry food, then the sachet, wasted away and became weak. Kidney problems, typical of domestic cats.

Even before she fell ill, Lola was a cat who was strangely uninterested in human food. You could slice a steak on the kitchen stone, and it wouldn’t even twitch.

Then I remembered something that really freaked Lola out: lettuce.

She also liked arugula and kale, but lettuce was her favorite. Around lunch time, Lola was hanging around the kitchen to get her little green leaves.

It was, to say the least, unusual behavior. Whenever I had someone over at home, I would show the visitor the spectacle of the cat meowing like crazy when a lettuce leaf was shaken in her nose.

Every pet parent thinks their pet is special. But Lola was indeed a peculiar cat, crazy about lettuce. I love you, Lolouca.

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