Saint Francis Preaches to a Cat

;I stopped buying icons a long time ago.
;If I desperately need the intercession of a specific saint, I just paint them myself, and then ask a priest over the internet to bless the image. It’s not for nothing that I spent years working first at a Catholic film studio and later at an Orthodox Sunday school—I made plenty of useful connections back then.
;The idea to paint an icon of Saint Francis came to me when, first of all, my cat fell ill, and second of all, I happened upon Lyudmila Ulitskaya’s story “Saint Francis of Assisi: Two in One.” It completely shook and moved me.
;On the fourth of October in New York—the feast day of Saint Francis—the writer was fortunate enough to witness an extraordinary, wonderful procession outside a Franciscan church, made up of animals and their owners. People were leading their dogs, carrying cats, birds, and even aquarium fish to receive a blessing from the Franciscan friars. In that incredibly long queue, not a single animal barked or bit. It was simply paradise on earth.
;Saint Francis is considered the patron saint of animals for good reason. In his hagiography, you can read about how he preached to fish and birds, and once even managed to convert a wolf. The conversation between Francis and the wolf is a popular subject among painters of all eras.
;...Suddenly, I had a vivid picture of my own cat standing in the wolf's place. And why not! I decided to paint an icon where Saint Francis is blessing my Murzilka.
;I painted a friar in a brown tunic, tied with a thick rope with three knots. The hood, which usually just looks like a collar, deserved special attention. (I had only ever seen the hood used for its intended purpose once—at the funeral of a Franciscan monk. His brothers drew the hood over the deceased man’s head as a sign that his pilgrimage was continuing...)
;Instead of the wolf, I painted my mottled little cat, and in the background, I placed a coconut palm with a fallen nut that had rolled away, just so it would be clear where the two of them were located.
;"Look, I made a gift for the cat," I bragged to a friend, sending her a picture of the icon.
;"Lucky her," Sonya joked enviously.
;"I’ll paint one for you too," I promised.
;And no wonder—after all, Sonya had taken in our Gella after we left.
;...When our whole family decided to leave Novosibirsk, scattering in different directions, the urgent question arose: what to do with the animals—a dog, a male cat, and a female cat.
;Finding homes for animals is, unfortunately, no easy task. As a rule, those who love them already have a four-legged friend of their own.
;At the very end, we had a terrible time with our black cat, Gella.
;We brought her back with us to my hometown of Tomsk. I was so hoping that my mother would take her, but...
;"That is entirely out of the question," my mother declared when Shurik and I showed up at her place with Gella. "I cannot stand cats."
;Sasha’s mother said roughly the same thing in another city:
"What on earth do I need a cat for?!"
;So, we had to return to Novosibirsk with our traveling cat, back to the blameless Sonya and Yasha.
;We had exactly one week left before our departure for Thailand to find a home for the poor creature—who, as luck would have it, was a stray, not particularly beautiful, but so soulful, affectionate, and dear to us...
;I remember spending hours on the phone. My list of friends was running out, and nobody wanted our cat. I cried, either out of hopelessness or because I simply didn't want to part with my fluffy friend. But we couldn't take her with us—ahead lay complete uncertainty and a total lack of money...
;On the very last day, a miracle of sorts happened: our daughter’s boyfriend reluctantly agreed to take the cat. He used to leave his own cat with us quite often, so he was somewhat indebted to us. Unfortunately, his relationship with Gella had never been good: while staying at his apartment in the past, the cat had chewed through some wires, Danil had beaten her for it, and in retaliation, she had peed in his shoes. High diplomacy!
;"...But we’ve had her spayed, and now Gella is completely docile. She won't do it again," I pleaded, sounding none too convincing, my heart heavy as I begged this unkind, cruel man to shelter a beloved pet.
;But we had to vacate Sonya’s apartment and clear it of the uninvited animal somehow!
;Meanwhile, Gella had made herself completely at home as a guest: without any prompting, she used her litter box impeccably and behaved perfectly.
;"She’s a funny little thing," Sonya smiled at her. "I’d keep her, but Yasha doesn't want cats."
;Anyway, when I got Danil’s consent that he would pick Gella up from Sonya’s place in a couple of days, a huge weight lifted from my soul, and in that relieved state, we left the country.
;Imagine my disappointment when, ten days later, I found out that Gella was still at Sonya’s!
;"You mean he never showed up?!" I asked over the phone.
;"Oh, he showed up," Sonya said. "But the cat hid somewhere so well that we couldn't find her. We crawled all over the house, but it was no use. It was terribly funny. And when he was about to leave, he discovered that someone had done her business right inside his sneaker!"
;"You're joking!" I nearly dropped the phone. "He must have nearly died of rage!"
;"Oh, absolutely! But as soon as he left, Gella crawled out of her hiding place, looking incredibly pleased with herself!"
;"What are we going to do now?!"
;"Oh, never mind, let her just live with us," Sonya generously decreed.
;Remarkably, the cat never once made a mess anywhere in Sonya’s house again. And whenever we returned to our homeland and stayed with Sonya, we couldn't untangle ourselves from the embraces of our sweet Gella.
;"Terrible cat. So lazy. I bought her a toy, and she won't even play with it," Yasha would grumble, while we exchanged stunned glances: we had never bought her any toys.
;All in all, the cat got lucky. How could I not paint an icon for Sonya and Gella?
;I depicted Saint Francis with the black cat against a snowy landscape, under a birch tree filled with bullfinches. I asked a real Italian Franciscan, Father Guido—who happens to be a good acquaintance of both Sonya and me—to bless it.
;...Murzilka, sadly, never recovered. And Gella passed away recently from old age, surrounded by love and comfort. Now both cats are in Heaven, together with Saint Francis.
;And we are still living here in the tropics, on our island, and stray cats keep moving in on us, multiplying and flourishing on our sixteen square yards. We feed them, love them, and treat their ailments—with the intercession of Saint Francis, who hangs on the wall.
;We couldn't manage without him.
;Koh Samui, 2023