A Black Cat from Croatia - Drakula?

Up here in the mountains, winter mornings bring a familiar sight — Horvat, the black cat, lurking in the woodshed. He hides between the stacked logs, eyes locked on the bird feeder just outside.

Horvat isn’t a local. He came from Croatia, a stray picked up by my neighbors during their summer trip. Now, he rules these snowy slopes like he’s always belonged.

There’s something about him — something ancient and mysterious. His black fur, his silent presence, and the way his green eyes glint in the dim light remind me of the old stories of Dracula. After all, wasn’t Dracula a foreigner who crossed borders, too?

Horvat doesn’t make a sound, just watches. Waiting. King of the woodshed. Hunter of the mountain birds.
Perhaps a little Dracul in his blood, too.