Refugee Family Reunites With Lost Cat After Epic Journey

I consider myself emotionally balanced most of the time, though I am prone to sentimentality over cats and rage over matters involving violations of human and civil rights. I think pregnancy has slightly magnified these tendencies of mine and today, I came across a moving story that encompassed both of these issues. Cats, human rights violations, and pregnancy were a trifecta that really pushed me over the edge in this case.

The Guardian shared a story of an unfortunate refugee family who had to flee Iraq due to circumstances of violence. They could not imagine parting with their family pet, a beautiful white cat (though I am partial to black ones), so a mother, five children, and their beautiful white cat named Kunkush left Iraq and headed to Greece together in November of 2015.

100,000 refugees arrived on the Greek island of Lesbos that month, and according to The Guardian video (below), “Kunkush was scared and got separated from his family.” This statement is written in big, unmistakable letters in this compelling video of human and animal resilience. The family had to move on, since Greece was merely a brief stopover point, and they did not yet know where there final destination would be, as is often the case with victims who are displaced by war.

Kunkush was located in a village nearby several days later, and was picked up by a veterinarian. After two months, a volunteer traveled with Kunkush to Berlin, and a search for his family began.

It turns out, his family had relocated to Norway, and in February, Kunkush was reunited with his family. This video (you have to watch it) is so incredibly touching, as it shows the loving reunion between Kunkush and his family after a long and seemingly impossible journey. The mother can hardly wait to get him out of the carrier, and once he is in her arms she cries, “Kunkush, my life! My darling!” as she kisses him. I almost fucking cried at work watching this damn thing.

There is nothing more beautiful than a happy ending like this; a family forced from their homes under tragic circumstances finds a new home, and their beloved cat makes it home to them under the most improbable of circumstances. You can read more here.

Yet, for every miraculous, beautiful moment, there is some ugly, vile, person with cow shit in the place of where their heart should be to tear it down. The story was posted by And My Cat on Facebook:

While many enjoyed the story and shared positive thoughts, many of the comments were imbecilic, egregiously ignorant, and reprehensible.  For instance, Exhibit A, Rita Maji DeLisi, a royal cunt who enjoys Ohio sports commented, “Sad…pathetic owners leave pets behind. Get yourself a statue next time. You don’t deserve the love pets provide.” Another equally cunty Facebook user apparently agreed with her and liked her garbage post.


Not to be outdone, Exhibit B, Corrina Peacock Ashley stated, “They shouldn’t have left him!!!” and Exhibit C, Bettyann Brunette Lilley called the family “pieces of crap” and “fools” for leaving their fur baby. That’s right; in reaching an unprecedented low, Lilley actually called children fleeing from war “pieces of crap” and “fools” because they lost their cat. It is truly un-fucking-believable.

First, maybe if Rita’s military was not bombing the shit out of Iraq and murdering civilians over there, this poor family probably would not have had to fucking flee to begin with. It’s easy for compassionless, disgusting north Americans to judge a family under these circumstances while stuffing themselves full of Doritos and Pizza Hut in the safety of their own homes, which have never been damaged, destroyed, or even threatened with foreign bombs or troops.

Second, it’d be nice if these fucking idiots would do the world a favor and learn to read. The video clearly indicates the cat was scared and ran off. He was not abandoned for fuck’s sake. If they were capable of reading even at a second-grade level, they would have learned from the video that Greece was not this family’s final destination. In all likelihood, they did not have legal status to stay in Greece indefinitely as undocumented aliens and search aimlessly for their runaway cat. Rita is possibly the type of American who supported Trump and his abominable wall and seethes with hatred at illegal immigrants, but she somehow expects this family to overstay their legal welcome in Greece to search for a fucking cat. Does this make any goddamn sense?

Even if the poor cat were in fact abandoned, is it too much to ask to have a bit of sympathy for a family literally fleeing for their lives? Let’s not forget that refugees drowned in Turkey and even Lesbos, where this family landed, and cats are not known to be the best swimmers. Maybe at that point, the family was relieved Kunkush had at least run away on land and not died. It’s easy to judge another human being, but no one really knows what they would do if forced into the same situation of war, violence, and displacement. But I suppose that’s far too beyond the mind of North Americans living their revoltingly militaristic and supercilious lives, marked by extraordinary obesity in both a metaphoric and literal sense – the overindulgent, masturbatory corpulence of the self-righteous American manifests itself both mentally and physically.

In sum, fuck these people.

The Thorn

These haikus came to mind while I was awaiting my turn to be heard by a judge at a court hearing.

Thorn I

Many years ago

She was warned but did not heed

Now she must atone


Thorn II

She glanced at his soul

Perceived a bitter rotting

Silently, she left

Cafe Conversation

She invented the cloudy dreaminess in boys eyes and their obvious intentions,

While drinking a golden tea rendered from a sunburst of alien tentacles with a red heart.

He explains he is a budding musician and believes in god so she asks why and says

You can find god in pews, or resounding from the throat of a holy man or

You can find god in the five-lined staff

Where your wings force their way through the skin of your shoulder blades

To glitter or reflect the steely pall of your confessions –

But then sacrilege appears on the patio casting his poison on every frame of her daylight

A blank ghost, with colorless, translucent skin composed of love molecules from her youth.

She suddenly feels she might be compressed to a vanishing dust to be dissipated with the breeze

Becoming only a glint in the saga of conquests

A dead, buried, short story with no premise.

She has forgotten about the young musician and his guitar

And her tea has turned to mud.


With dangerous ambivalence they were rampaging the streets

She sees herself everywhere in mirrors, holding rainbow glasses of drinks

Until she finds herself sinking between his sheets

Breathing warmth out of her veins, suspecting that if she blinks

She might erase it all with the pulse of the night and a parting of the lips

When her wings fluttered the hours away in a smoky heaven and she tore shooting stars off the walls

Traced the clouds with her hips, brushed the ether with her fingertips

In smug delight of holding a microcosmos in her pocket, blind to impending falls

So steadily she holds the gaze of his gold-flecked eyes

Carefully one more time traces his ripples and lines

When daylight snakes in the room and the night before is a faded whisper of sighs

And the arrogant sun sings and shines

She can feel her heart starting to creak and bend

And fears with him she’ll meet her end

Sunset Boulevard

It was an aimless time in the rain whiskey burning in the veins and someone whispered please sleep but sleep bribes with the most useless promises and giving in is the most undignified part of the day, when forced ripples of unconsciousness threaten to be continuous so they used small, orange dolls to force wakefulness with a torrent of fire and abandon. Sunset Boulevard would not die so the four of them took a booth at Denny’s and she tugged her hair, sighed, and he turned to look at her, his expression asking what am I doing here but she only smiled, because she did not have the answer. She closed her eyes and thought those liquid-slate eyes are the most fleeting of all, unstoppable, and when she opened her eyes she felt she had miscalculated and was spinning in confusion at her own error. When the sun rose she drove to the airport, crying at the drab hideousness of the 405 and its ceaseless droning, and she did not know why, but her friend, leaning her head against the passenger seat window, was secretly pleased with her tears.

Running Home at Night

running home in heels with the pleasant floating of the hour and bearable ticking of days

she always knew unrequited emotion would result in a loneliness that beats against all sense so

she was receding with the distance

losing her patience in the thick tropical forests between them

it was a predictable resignation, between unfamiliar canyons and a picturesque second of the day

she imagined he had a magical sunshine encircling him

silken hair dying in a meaningless wind of fascination

so she met the sunrise on the cafe patio with a cigarette

later in the day as she sipped iced tea

she decided

his ghost could remain in those forests and

she would not be there at the airport when he returned


drifting in and out of sleep floating through disturbances of phone calls and scrambled details of a faraway night-glory when riddled with shivers she found a warm body, let herself crumble to elusive plans not her own, victim to sloshing in the head, a warm bloody release of the fulfillment. she slept alone above a pool of aquamarine liquid, disconnected from infidelities.

there’s a vague flash of pink, metallic, chipped nailpoish, and bent wings. here’s the skin my flesh and all the youth for you to feast on. she raged and dragged a furor through the bones with a fresh madness and love that has never idled away in a pantry or been stored in a can.

waking up penless and thoughtless, light was starting to claw at the blinds and she was still waiting for unconsciousness and relief from the battle schemes of the day. coffee and spirits have flooded the veins, burst against reason, spun the head with heavy confessions in a rotation of heavenly uncertainties.

an entreating voice is on the phone, asking for warmth, because he is about to leave again, restless to wander while she stews contentedly in suburbia, breathing in a fateful and constant concrete, only half listening because she catches sight of a man on a balcony and trails off to stale thoughts and imagined with him there would be the final reduction of the fatal rush and the pleasure of letting the unknown melt in slate irises, gold-flared in the midday sun, a faithful and eternal reflection of unending sand and flawless sky.

now they suffer the musicless hum of the 405 together and she is reminded they have always been imaginary. you might be remembered best if you finished here violently and grandly and young because continuity threatens to be the most inglorious concession.


Exasperated, she is baffled

The earth keeps spinning

Even as she wanes and unravels, shriveling in her transient prison

She fears in time she will not remember if he was hers or

If she created this love in her sleep, out of lonely lunacy

The years promise to bleed and dissolve them with a flash of betrayal

When she sees him again, he will have a another reality

And she may be only a strange shadow to him

Merely a melancholy imprint, a colorless melody from a previous life

So she leans into his ear to whisper

When the world has ended, just know that I was here

Gathering yellow roses for you

Humming songs for our afterlife

I existed beneath the ash and sand and stone

I was lying here in my pink bed writing love letters to you, way above in the clouds.


i daydream about waking up in his apartment between cocoon sheets and quietly folded dreams of the faded night before

and padding down the hallway on his pine wood floors in the morning as a crisp reminder of reality

but he never calls me so

let us stare mindlessly at the yellow roses by the mailbox together until this song runs out

we’ll pick up guitars and play until i am ready for coffee highs and long days

we’ll make our own viscous, blurring nights with liquid destruction in our hands

you can have all my secret fascinations and my immutable kingdom

as long as we can spend all summer on the cafe patio

with old men


and iced tea

The Biased Media

The media is composed of countless sources, created by innumerable individuals, every single one of whom has biases. But Trump supporters are fucking delusional if they think “the media” is particularly or especially based toward their President. I give you exhibit A, which popped up in my Facebook Feed today:

The title of this piece reads, Trump Just signed New Law Making Drug Tests Mandatory For Welfare – Look What Immediately Happened. The headlining photograph as it appears in a user’s Facebook Feed depicts Trump appearing to sign a law (Trump Just signed New Law Making Drug Tests Mandatory), juxtaposed with what might be a chaotic mob of angry protesters, presumably lazy welfare recipients who are enraged at the new regulation (Look What Immediately Happened).

I’m not even going to go into detail regarding the fact corporate welfare to gigantic businesses is also socialist spending i.e. WELFARE. Never mind that businesses, banks, farms, and pretty much the entire incompetent auto industry of America regularly receive subsidies, bailouts, and handouts, and plenty of the rank and file of those entities are snorting cocaine, drinking booze, and smoking weed, and not once have I heard Republicans call for lobbyists, employees, or board members of those subsidy-receiving entities to be drug-tested. But I’ll spare you of that today, and focus on this story, its title, and its editor’s unfortunate, and dishonest, selection of featured graphics.

If you by chance read the real story behind the photograph on the right, you’d recall – yes, there were in fact angry people involved in a protest.

Except here’s the problem.

The picture is from June 22, 1996, has nothing to do with welfare, and actually depicts an incident in which an 18-year-old black woman, Keshia Thomas, defended a KKK member against violence during a Ku Klux Klan rally in 1996.

I shit you not. See here, here, here, here, and here.

This photograph was taken in the context of people (rightfully) protesting the Ku Klux Klan. It captured an inspirational moment of humanity in which one individual went out of her way to protect a total degenerate loser who supports segregation, white supremacy, white nationalism, and probably lynching, because she felt it was wrong to threaten him with violence for his views – and the Trump media has used it out of context in a vile and reprehensible manipulation of truth and racial politics to imply the people pictured are rioting because welfare benefits are being threatened. Indeed, the absurdity is too much to bear.

So for all you Trump supporters who claim the media is particularly biased toward Trump – fuck your, fuck your Trump, and Fuck you.