There are things known and things unknown and in between are the doors.
While I have always been fascinated by the windows of Prague’s many architectural gems, I suppose I have never paid that much attention to doors as I have during my trip to the Czech Republic back in January. The doors of the Czech capital tell their own old stories…
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A view of the Eiffel Tower through a cracked glass panel of the Wall of Piece.
Back in the Soviet days, most of the neighborhoods had playgrounds that could put modern equivalents to shame. The remnants of the former cult of sport remain scattered around Chisinau courtyards. This particular courtyard – a two minute walk from my apartment block – had table tennis tables made of solid concrete. These days these weathered and worn things hardly remind of their former purpose…
This is one of the five pups that were born under one such table. I’ve noticed them by pure chance, when I took an unexpected detour on my way from the gym. Only two male and one female pup remained at that point. The mum would sometimes be present too, although she was mostly out scavenging for food.
The female pup, as I was told, was once thrown into one of those huge garbage bins used by the nearby houses. The one that threw her was a kid. At one point – after the original incident – she could not walk at all, once again falling victim to abuse.
About two weeks later, all three of the pups were found with a broken neck. Almost at the same time, one of the local street cats was found with her head smashed in. The witnesses have once again named a child as the murderer. Nobody was ever punished.
The mother of the three pups was still alive in Autumn 2016.
Tubochka, or the Nightstand, lived at Dinamo stadium in the center of Chisinau. Was she well-fed or just sick and overweight? I wouldn’t really know, but her short, stocky and angular body earned Tumbochka her peculiar nickname.
What I do know is that Nightstand was a victim of abuse. First time I saw her, she ran away, even though I wasn’t even trying to approach her to make our acquaintance. Strangers terrified her. Strangers 10 meters away made her run and hide somewhere under the stands. A gentle talk from a distance would make her wag her tail, but an attempt to approach would make her flee.
A few months after our meeting, she finally allowed me to pet her and give her food, even though she’d flinch and run at the slightest movement.