How Much Is Perals Worth

A cat in my first novel, Aftermath

Pruzzo was so called because of a player.

When I found him, living with Sonia was finished recently. It was Sunday, was in July, it was very hot. I turned the balls. I was visiting a friend in Chianti, I had vomited on him all my paranoia. He had lunch together and had been drinking good wine. Around four in the afternoon came on. I turned a bit 'with the car, I kept the music loud and the windows wide open. I could not find peace. I arrived at Castellina, and before entering the village I saw the signs for the Etruscan tombs. What the hell will never, I thought. I decided to go see. I parked, there was not a soul was sad and lonely, I was sweating to do shit.

The Etruscan tombs were dug underground rooms with little light but with a few degrees less than outside. I went on trial and error, I was disappointed and bored. Then I saw something move. A species of mouse, a prick with his legs, a tiny thing in the darkest corner of the last room. I went and put me Pruzzo eyes in the eye. It was as big as the palm of my hand, everything lighter brown with three stripes on his back. It was muddy, his mouth full of earth and a red eye, swollen, ill. He trembled, seemed half dead. But it was nice like the sun, small and pure, was life. I fell in love. My freedom was over the first three steps, in the penultimate room of the tomb of the cock. Raccattai Pruzzo, I arranged it between his thighs and drove up to the first floor bar. They called the vet in the country, a man in his sixties, a bit 'hunchback and completely bald. He boasted of being a magician with the goats and sheep, but his cows remained strong. I did not understand what he meant, however, was very kind. He opened the study and visited the cat. Found him a very high fever, he said that probably had pneumonia. Gave him an injection of glucose, the prescribed three drugs and therapy he explained. Then he gave me a box of powdered milk and a bottle.

«È nato da poco, avrà una settimana», mi disse. «Sarà difficile farlo campare. Così piccoli, senza la mamma, muoio­no. Se vuole provare a salvarlo deve dargli da mangiare ogni ora, giorno e notte».

«Lo farò».

«Non si illuda. È molto probabile che non ce la faccia».

Mi sentivo crepare. Ma quella bestiola non sarebbe morta, non così presto, non adesso che aveva incontrato me.

«Poi, è importante che il gatto mangi, ma deve anche defecare», said the vet.

"I suppose."

'alone is not able to do so. When very small mother cat licks the puppies on the backside .... "

"What does that mean?".

"You must take a cotton ball, wet it with hot water and stimulate the cat."

"How?".

"I'll rub on the tummy, and ass."

"Hog dog."

"Unless caca, explodes. There is no alternative. "

"I will" I said. I was sweating cold.

"It must also creargli a habitat similar to the mother cat. Put it in a kennel not too big, hairy with a rag wool. "

"Okay."

'Put even a hot water bottle, below. You must have a maternal warmth. The sign also drops. Give it to him three times a day, only patient in the eye. "

"Okay."

"It looks like a really bad infection, for me is blind."

sighed, catching my cat. I wondered what I had pushed in Etruscan tombs. I had not ever give a fuck about that stuff, and then you say destiny.

the Pruzzo marked my life. I did everything there was to be done, including things that I never told you. The nights, the bottles every hour, the hot water bottle, the drops the swab on the ass. Even enemas, those who take the children, because sometimes Pruzzo jams and cotton that did no good. I lived for him, there was no time and strength to do anything else. I told the world more ridiculous excuse for a cat to weaning. Meanwhile, lost weight and do not close my eyes without seeing his nose in front, his paws over his face.

One day two seemed Pruzzo were to die. I took him to the vet in Calenzano, a strange, more famous for hunting wild boar for his profession. Every time a shot was to my puppy and shook his head.

"I know who dies," he said.

Instead Pruzzo span. The better eye, and then came the homogenized milk, few hours of sleep, then the magical world of boxes and farting incredible stuff to evacuate the house, and then the awareness of the claws, the demolition of the chair and the curtains in the bathroom, his tongue everywhere, the stolen meat from the pot , the first races in the meadow, the first kittens to seduce and magical feeling of having done something great.

"Now die no more," said the veterinarian-hundredth the hunter shot.

I wanted to send him to fuck off. I knew all along that Pruzzo going to make it, because it was a special beast. With the style of the feline race, and the tendency to obesity Swine Breeding. Bello, my cat.

(from Women and mice , Fazi Editore, 2004)

After ten years in Rome, flag which was in season 1988-1989 Roberto Pruzzo spent a season with Fiorentina, picked up six more appearances to start playing some remnant of the race, in the playoff June 30, 1989, against Roma, at the cross Roberto Baggio , marked di testa il suo unico gol della stagione, che consentì ai viola l'accesso in Coppa UEFA.