This text is part of my ongoing reflection on self-awareness, emotional patterns, and conscious growth.
In March of 2025 a litter was born in a small casa in Ibiza. Four black kittens left their mother’s womb right beside their human owners who were shockingly surprised. As with all life that just happens the litter owned a spot in our household. A carton box in the second bathroom was where they opened their eyes for the first time.
Eight blue eyes exploring our bathroom. And even though they were still so little, their unique characters were swiftly surfacing. One of them in particular. This tiny little dude was practicing his skills by hissing and fighting at thin air. This earned him the title Zorro. Zorro was an adventurous kitten. Together with his brother Bagheera (the climber) he ventured out whenever he could.
Zorro, the littlest but definitely nót the least.
This main character opened his eyes and took the center stage. Even though the resemblance between the four black kittens was uncanny, Zorro’s gaze was easily recognized. His eyes would pierce you and when you would hold him, you would immediately feel it was him. Muscular, tight, strong. Did I mention he is very handsome?
And thus when we posted our kittens for adoption, Zorro was chosen first. I felt sad, but I also knew we could not keep them all. When the time came, Zorro was chipped and flown to the Netherlands. And they lived happily ever after… Guess again.
Zorro terrorized his new home.
It was just too small for him. This adventurous little dude kept his parent up all night, breaking everything that he encountered and jumping and running around at high speed.
The situation could no longer be upheld and it was decided that Zorro would fly back to us. A part of me was excited but I also felt sad for him that he had made this big trip only to return so soon.
And back he was.
Hello little Zorro. His arrival marked the loss of our tableware, he is unstoppable.
Things would break on a daily basis, just for fun. I would see him inspecting an item and then gently pushing it over the rail. Sure, in the beginning it was fun, having this little demon setting the tone, but as with all my questions, after directing them at the sky I search answers through means of AI.
And thus I asked AI what Zorro’s problem was and more importantly, what he needed from us.
What was already known to me now became staggeringly clear, Zorro is a main character. He is the type of kitten who makes friends with the neighbor’s dog. He craves attention, challenge and acknowledgement. Simple things that we can give him.
And so we do. Every day I make sure to personally gratify him. I will give him a private treat, without having to share the moment with another cat. We will play games together and when I see him, I will stroke him and talk to him to acknowledge his spot in our household.
Since we actually started seeing him, the breaking of things has become less.
Alas, an apartment in the Netherlands was too small for this diva. Here, we can give him the outside space he needs. And at least now I know how to prevent future demolition. Of course, he still breaks things here and there, but it seems nothing more than a gentle reminder for us to see him. And isn’t every little outburst, in essence, a cry for attention? We all want a place in our household — and sometimes we create a bit of unrest just to be noticed.
This text is an open reflection.
More guided, integrative essays are gathered in my paid essay series on Ko-fi.
“One day I was counting the cats and I absent-mindedly counted myself.”
