Photo essay: A Day in the Life of a Cat
- Stela Vladimirova-Ivanova
- Jul 13
- 4 min read
Last May, just as summer was approaching, I was working on one of my final college assignments. I was to create a photo story following a narrative structure, and I chose to document something ever-present – stray cats and their daily lives.
I live in a small town on the island of Malta, and we have a large stray cat community. The same cats walk down our streets, sleep on our porches, and hide from the scorching sun underneath our cars. My family and I feed them, so we have grown accustomed to each other, though they keep their distance out of fear.
I decided to do my project on the daily lives of stray cats because they seem so different from ours. We are always in a hurry, either to get to school or work, focusing our attention on one thing or another. Meanwhile, cats just walk around, look for something to eat, groom themselves, lounge, and repeat – they do not have rules, societal pressure, or expectations placed upon them as we do.
During my time photographing the cats, I spent hours at a time in the sun, equipped with a bag of cat food, a Canon EOS R10, two lenses, and a bottle of water. Though they are less active during the day, I did find them lounging near people’s cars and homes, usually finding a place in the shade to rest. Ideally, I would have loved to photograph their actions during the night, as they are nocturnal animals, but it was unfortunately outside my abilities.
The cats were often afraid, but never hostile. As they are an inevitable presence in our lives, some locals decided they should have their own place of comfort as well. At the end of the road, within a meadow, they had their area among the trees and bushes, with furniture donated by the locals, such as blankets, cat houses, and wooden pallets to sleep on. Unfortunately, among the furniture was a lot of trash and litter as well, such as plastic bottles and various glass ornaments, but the cats seemed happy enough to have a place where they could be undisturbed.
While I aimed to show how slow and calm the lives of stray cats are, I came to realise it is not all that simple. While photographing them, I discovered that some of the cats were injured, including a few that had varying degrees of blindness, such as cataracts and missing eyes. As they live on the street and walk through fields and valleys, many of them also have fleas and other diseases, which remain untreated.
On one of my photo walks, I happened to meet a neighbour who also feeds the local cats. She told me she has done so for a long time, but will be moving away soon, and is worried about how they will manage. I came to learn from her that many of them are traumatised due to past human contact. She told me stories of the cruelty she has witnessed: cats locked in garages for months, locals putting out poisoned food to kill them. Furthermore, she told me most of the cats are neutered, as she herself had taken them to a veterinarian, hoping to prevent similar fates for their potential offspring. The conversation with her made me think about the cruelty that lies beneath this topic.
That same year, another story shook the island – that of a man baiting stray cats with food and killing them. What began as a simple attempt to document their seemingly carefree daily lives became something more complicated. While much of the public is either loving or indifferent towards cats, there is a small minority who are cruel and harmful on purpose, and those encounters linger and make the cats distrustful of all people.
The time I spent with the cats, photographing them, handing out food, and sitting next to them made me understand that they are living creatures, no different from us. When people get too caught up in their busy lives, they tend to forget about the humanity of the strangers around them and how everyone has their own separate lives, including animals.
Now, when I walk home, I often see the cats walk towards me, sometimes running. I know they do it because they associate me with food, and it is entirely transactional, but that does not bother me in the slightest. Before I open the door to enter my home, I do not mind those five extra minutes I spend sitting next to them as they eat. I am not in a hurry anymore.
Comments