Hi, I’m Christopher! Read my introduction to learn more about me and my silly Russian Blue cat, Olga.
I didn’t know much about Russian Blues until I adopted one, but after watching Olga transform from a psychotic kitten to a friendly, mischievous, middle-aged woman, I learned a lot. His physical characteristics, such as his blue coat, light green eyes, and 10.06-pound weight, seem to follow the breed standard.
Olga is a rescue cat; I haven’t had her DNA tested, and I’m no expert in identifying cats, so she may be purebred or mixed. I think he has a lot of Russian Blue blood pumping through his veins and exhibits most of the behavioral traits that have made the breed famous.
Russian Blue Behavior
He is aloof and violent as a young cat and affectionate without being strict. He is smarter and more coordinated than I first gave him credit for and can open and close doors, catch paper balls like an outfielder, attack me when I sleep late, and see when I’m having a bad day.
However, some Russian Blue folklore makes me laugh when I think about Olga. Even the nicknames Archangel Blue and Maltese Blue are not accurate representations of him. If anything, he is more anti-Christ than Archangel. Russian Blues have “Mona Lisa smiles” because of their upturned mouths, but Olga’s look is more crooked and Lizzie Borden-like.
Archangel legend
There is a legend that Russian Blues watched over babies while they slept and protected them from the 19th century version of Freddy Kruger. If only for children Elm Street had a colony of cats, so many killings could have been prevented, as long as they didn’t have a cat like Olga.
He is no match for an evil spirit, poltergeist, dream assassin, or holographic vacuum cleaner. I can count on him to send insects, but anything else, natural or metaphysical, causes him to sprint in fear. Olga is a stealthy runner and an expert at blending shadows, and an intruder in my home would never know I had a cat unless they tripped over the litter box.
Olga the Brave (Meek)
He is fierce when faced with stuffed mice, paper balls, and flies but runs when he hears a helicopter flying by or a pyrotechnic explosion. Olga is not a guard cat and she may not be the best babysitter for children, but I like the idea that cats in northern Russia protect sleeping babies instead of stealing their breath or cursing them, as other superstitions suggest.
Olga’s ancestors traveled with sailors to other European countries after leaving Arkhangelsk, and it is possible that their seafaring ways and water tolerance were preserved in Olga’s genes. He’s never been on a boat or seen the ocean, but he’s not afraid to play in the shower water or attack me on the rare occasion I’m in the bathtub.
Before I learned to keep the bathroom door locked, he tried to touch me through the shower curtain, and a few years ago, when I was in the tub, he dropped a bottle of shampoo on my head after walking around slippery. side.
I remind guests to lock the door before they shower because I don’t want my pint-sized Norman Bates wandering in and scaring them. I’m proud of Olga for being so smart and lighthearted that she never learned to hold a butcher knife.
