To celebrate my mother’s birthday, we went to a restaurant in Etiler. The evening started off well and everything was great while we were eating. The conversation was flowing, and, as usual, the star of the section where we were sitting was our little Blackie. This little rascal has some sort of irresistible charm. He’d wander over to the neighboring tables on both sides, winning people over with his cuteness. Everyone who pet him wanted to keep petting him. Both the guests at nearby tables and the waitstaff kept telling us how incredibly sweet our dog was. At that point, no one could’ve predicted that this peaceful atmosphere was about to take a turn for the worse.
After dinner, I went over to speak with the waiter who had been serving us. I wanted to order a chocolate dessert with a candle on top so we could celebrate my mom’s birthday with the traditional “Happy Birthday” song.
The Wrath of the Black Cat
I spoke with the waiter and headed back to our table, which was tucked away in a corner of the winter garden. As soon as I sat down, my mom said, “Blackie just barked like crazy at a black cat outside.” By the time I got there, he had quieted down. But not five minutes had passed when that same black cat suddenly darted under our table from beneath the chair next to me. As soon as the cat crawled under the table, brave little Blackie jumped down from beside my mom to confront it. The cat had clearly already targeted Blackie and didn’t waste a second before attacking.
I heard the screech of the cat and the yelp of our poor dog all within a split second. When I looked under the table, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The cat, which was bigger than Blackie, had climbed onto his back and was clawing at his face with both paws. I reacted immediately, trying to kick the cat away. My first attempt wasn’t enough, so I kicked harder a second time. The cat finally let go of Blackie, but then it turned its rage on me and tried to attack my leg. I managed to shove it away from my calf and push it out from under the table.
I’ve never seen a cat so aggressive in my life. Even after I got it out from under the table, it wasn’t done. It kept trying to attack my leg, latching on tightly and swiping with its claws. I must’ve looked ridiculous, trying to shake the thing off—first my right leg, then my left. Eventually, I managed to shake it off completely. Realizing it wasn’t getting anywhere, the cat finally let out a screech and bolted out of the restaurant.
An Unbelievable Outburst from a Woman
But what happened next was somehow even more bizarre than the cat’s attack. Just as I was about to check on Blackie, a woman at the table diagonally across from us—face frozen with Botox and eyebrows unnaturally arched—stormed over and started yelling at me: “How dare you treat that cat like that! I ought to slap you across the face!”
I was already furious and anxious to check on Blackie, and now this woman was charging at me, adding insult to injury. I was stunned and even more irritated. But somehow, I kept my cool and said, “Ma’am, didn’t you see? That cat attacked our dog and seriously injured him.”
The woman was so enraged, she didn’t even hear me. She kept shouting, “You can’t treat a cat that way!” That’s when the other diners stepped in. They stood up and told her, “Ma’am, please sit down. The cat attacked everyone. We all saw what happened.”
At that point, she finally paused. The man sitting at her table—clearly mortified—covered his face and whispered something to her. I didn’t catch what he said, but whatever it was, she turned around and sat back down in a matter of seconds.
A Dash to the Vet
My first instinct was to crouch down and check on Blackie under the table. He was lying there, clearly injured, and started whimpering in pain when he saw me. I quickly scooped him up and told my mom, “Blackie’s badly hurt—I’m taking him to the vet.” With Blackie in my arms, I ran across the street to the animal hospital. Thank goodness there was a 24-hour veterinary clinic right nearby.
We lucked out—the vet on duty was excellent. He immediately examined Blackie’s body and face. There were scratches on various parts of his body and on his face. Most importantly, he checked his eyes. His left eye was badly bloodshot. Upon seeing this, the vet said, “We’ll have to check whether his eyes have been scratched.” In addition to eye drops, he applied a solution that looked like ink to detect any damage.
Blood in the Eye, But No Scratches
Miraculously, our little guy’s eye hadn’t been scratched. While he had scratches on his face and body, which the vet cleaned and treated, and his left eye was bright red, his eyes themselves were completely intact—down to the millimeter. The vet gave us antibiotic drops for both eyes (especially necessary for the left one, which was blood-filled). He also fitted a cone around Blackie’s neck to keep him from scratching at his eye. I let out a deep breath of relief—I was just happy he was okay.
While paying the bill for the exam and treatment, I struck up a casual chat with the vet. Turns out, he was a hardcore Galatasaray fan. We made small talk—“We’re getting our fifth star this year,” “That cat was seriously aggressive,” and so on. Then, something clicked in my head: “Wait a second, that cat attacked me too!” I told the vet, who asked, “Did it scratch you?” I said, “Yeah, it scratched up my legs,” and rolled up my pant leg. That’s when we saw the back of my leg covered in blood, with serious claw marks on both the front and back. The vet immediately dressed my wounds as well and said, without hesitation, “You’ll need to go to the hospital and get a rabies shot.”
The back of my right calf after the incident—similar scratches were on both the front and back of each leg. The scary part? I was wearing thick, denim-style pants at the time, and the cat still managed to do this kind of damage.
Rabies and Tetanus Roulette
So, there I believed that Blackie’s eye wasn’t damaged, but also bummed that I now needed to get a rabies shot. I carried Blackie back to the restaurant. Every pair of eyes in the place was on me as I walked from one end to the other. I went up to the tense-looking woman with the frozen face and said, “Ma’am, earlier you weren’t listening to a word I said. Maybe now that you’ve seen it with your own eyes, you’ll understand. That cat you were defending did this to my dog. Just look at the poor thing. Of course I did what I had to do to protect him.”
She blushed and replied, “You misunderstood me, sir.” I responded, “There’s nothing to misunderstand—it’s all right here in front of you.” Just then, one of the hostesses came over and said to her, “We know Mr. Serhan well—he’s a true animal lover. We’ve had such a hard time getting that aggressive cat to stay out of the restaurant. The other day, it even ate the chicks of a pigeon that had nested in the corner of the winter garden.” A minute later, the woman left the restaurant.
After the conversation ended, I returned to our table and laid Blackie next to my mom. We sat for a bit. The guests at the neighboring table came over to see Blackie. “Guess all that cuteness brought on the evil eye,” they said. We sang a bittersweet “Happy Birthday” and let my mom blow out her candle, finishing the celebration on a slightly somber note. Then I dropped my family off at home and headed straight to İstinye State Hospital.
This is a photo of Blackie and me taken at our neighborhood café before the incident. My adorable, clever little buddy.
Later, back at the restaurant, Blackie lay beside my mom while I got ready to head to the hospital. He wandered toward the neighboring table again, still wanting attention. If you look closely in the photo, you can see how blood-red his left eye was.
Rabies Shots and a Broken System
Since I was going out of town the next morning, I had to get the rabies shot that night. When I first arrived at the hospital, the place was empty. But after about half an hour of waiting for the doctor, a line had formed behind me—seven people in total. Delivery drivers, shopkeepers, businesspeople, an elderly man and his daughter… all kinds of folks. I chatted with a few of them. Everyone had a story. Most were there because of cat attacks; only one had been bitten by a dog.
And then it hit me: “We still haven’t found a solution that works for everyone. How many people in this country are getting rabies shots for no reason because of this chaos? It’s a shame—for both the people and the animals.”
At the hospital, I was told I needed both a rabies and a tetanus shot. They gave me the tetanus in my left shoulder and the rabies on my right. The tetanus site stayed sore for three days. I was also told I’d need a full course of four rabies shots. I’ll be getting the final one this weekend.
The Side Effects of a Broken System
To be honest, I don’t really blame the cat who attacked me and my dog, or even the woman who lashed out at me. When I look at things with empathy, I wonder what kind of trauma or hunger that cat might’ve endured on the streets. As for the woman—who knows what personal struggles she’s facing? Maybe she’d just had an argument in traffic before even arriving at the restaurant.
What I really want to highlight with this story is how the broken system in Turkey affects everyone—people and animals alike. When even the most basic needs aren’t being met, it’s no wonder so many are on edge, mentally and emotionally. There’s a Turkish saying: “They asked the camel why his back was crooked, and he replied, ‘What part of me isn’t?’” That’s kind of what life here feels like. Still, despite everything, I remain optimistic. With real, lasting solutions, we can create a better world for all living beings.
A picture of us before it all happened
Here’s a photo of me and little Blackie at our neighborhood café, taken before this whole ordeal. Blackie, the cutest of the cute and sharp as a tack, and me.
Tag: personal story
