Two Ways of Surviving Between Civilization and the Wild
[Photo: Cat at the front door, sleeping dog]
When night falls, Gori grows quiet. People shut their doors, turn off the lights, and fold their day away. Around five in the morning, the dogs begin to roam. Not three or four, but packs of nearly ten moving together. They bark, they run, they signal to one another. With the rooster’s cry, the sun rises. And the dogs disappear.
But they have not vanished. They are sleeping deeply in front of shops, in front of houses, wherever the sunlight reaches, as if nothing ever happened. They do not attack people. When someone opens a shop door, they lift their heavy bodies, grumbling, and move under a tree, curling up to keep warm. If no one chases them away, they stay right there. Sometimes, they wait for a piece of bread to fall. They know. If they interfere with business, they will be driven out. So they spend their time waiting for night to return.
In human society, most of us are closer to the dawn dogs. We go to work on schedule, compete according to the system, survive if we perform well, get pushed out if we don’t. We move in crowds, displaying our numbers. But in the daytime, we become diligent workers, diligent business owners. Disrupt the system that collects taxes and prints money, and you’re done. The state does not need to shout. We already know: don’t interfere. So we learn how to obey. We lie down in small bedrooms and chew on snacks.
But the cats who visit the landlord’s house live differently. They only play in spaces where the dogs do not roam. They dig through the backyard hunting birds, mice, and insects. We keep the right distance. No dependence. No obedience. Just mutual respect for each other’s freedom. Sometimes, there are people like cats. They do not wander in front of city hall looking for scraps. At work, they keep a healthy distance. In social life, they don’t entangle themselves too deeply. Yet they manage to get by. They refuse to wear bells around their necks. They are often mistaken for being antisocial. But in truth, they are simply using a different survival strategy.
They carve out their own small territory and live inside it. They know they cannot survive if they break the rules of coexistence. So they borrow space just enough not to be expelled. They know that crossing the line is the end. That’s why they are always watching. Eyes rolling quietly, measuring the world. The more someone feels protected by the system, the more aggressively they react when their position is threatened. Those who live outside the system, by contrast, must search for food with their own hands. The cats build their own playground somewhere between wilderness and civilization. Time loosens there. No taxes. No duties. No productivity. They sit and insert themselves between what is seen and what is heard.
The dogs are probably sleeping somewhere again right now. Because until the sun fully sets, today’s daytime order has not yet ended. And the cats are likely sitting under the eaves, soaking in the sunlight, waiting for the front door to open.
#Georgia #Gori #Saltnfire #Phenomenology #Savagemind
If you enjoyed this article, you can support the project – thank you!