RIO DE JANEIRO

Anyone who knows me knows: I'm crazy about animals and a fierce defender of them. If you want to know me at my core, you won't find who I truly am in groups of friends or social events, but rather when I'm near an animal. Because it's there, in their presence, that it's possible to see who I really am; to see me body and soul. And today I open the blog in a moment of nostalgia. I go back in time to embrace, in words, my dear Scott. While I think of him, my heart inevitably also remembers Orelha, a symbol of a pain that should never have existed.

Sr. Claudio

Stories like his resonate with us and inspire us to be better people. Scott, on the other hand, found a gesture amidst human cruelty that changed everything. Abandoned and chained to a ravine in the interior of São Paulo, his neck lacerated by the steel cable that bound him, he was seen – and saved – by Mr. Benedito Cláudio Ernesto, a man of extreme kindness towards animals, who never turned his back on those in need. With difficulty and courage, Mr. Cláudio, as he was known, freed him. And there, on that dirt road, two destinies began to walk side by side.

Now you must be wondering: what does all this have to do with Rio de Janeiro, right? He lived with me for only four years, but they were intense, full of life. If he ever knew abandonment, he also knew what it was to be loved. He traveled, discovered new paths, and lived his old age with dignity and fullness. When he passed away, something inside me told me it would be selfish to keep his story to myself. The world needed to know him. When the idea of writing a book about him came up, along with it came that inner voice, severe and judgmental: “Who do you think you are? You're not qualified for this. Know your place.” I confess I felt small in the face of my own insecurity. But I decided, even so, to face it head-on. I put everything my heart knew on paper, even without understanding writing techniques or being an expert in the Portuguese language.

Today, Scott the Dog's Logbook travels the world. If that first step hadn't been taken, Meow Adventures wouldn't exist today. I wouldn't be in the communities of Rio de Janeiro, being gifted with the contagious joy of the children who teach me, at every encounter, the true meaning of sharing stories.

I love Rio. And it saddens me to see how often the news chooses to show only its violence. At one point, I found myself thinking about the lives of children who grow up in the favelas and live with this reality every day. That's when an idea started to take shape within me. Baloo and Suki have already been to the Marvelous City with me, in real life. Why not take them, now, to these children through the curious and innocent eyes of two traveling kittens? Perhaps many of them have never visited these tourist spots that, in my imagination, my cats explored. But beauty and playfulness must cross borders. They must reach where invisible walls still insist on existing. Because beautiful things shouldn't be the privilege of the bourgeoisie. Nor of any other label that limits access to enchantment. Every child, wherever they live, has the right to dream and see themselves within a beautiful story.

Everything in life has its ups and downs. And, for me, the result of this project isn't just in the printed books, but in the people it allowed me to meet. I discovered leaders who make a difference every day in the lives of those who live in the communities. People who don't wait for grandiose solutions, but build achievable changes. Alone, we are not capable of solving the world's problems. But we can transform what is within our reach, even if they are microscopic gestures. What we cannot do is remain inert, living only in lamentation.

It was on this journey that I met the photographer Bruno Itan, when I invited him to take photos during my visit to the communities. Born in Recife, Pernambuco, he has lived in Rio for over 25 years and spent many of them in the Complexo do Alemão. He was always bothered by seeing favelas portrayed only as synonymous with violence on search engines. He knew there was much more there. And he decided to change the focus. Through his lens, he began to reveal the human daily life, the silent dignity, the affections, and the strength of those who live in these territories.

Starting from scratch wasn't easy, but today his work has international recognition. His book, *Olhar Complexo* (Complex Gaze) , was a finalist for the Jabuti Prize, one of the most important awards in Brazilian literature. When Prince Harry visited Brazil, the British embassy made sure to include a meeting in his schedule to see his photographs. This recognition speaks for itself. But perhaps what moves me most is another of his choices. Bruno created a photography course for children in the community, with the same name as his book. As he himself told me: "I want to see a camera in their hands, not a weapon." This is his contribution to a better world. Our conversations touched me deeply. He honestly describes what it's like to live under the tension of shootings, the fear that permeates adults, children, and even animals, who seek shelter when the deafening noise begins.

And in the midst of all this, he chose to see the light. Perhaps that's what moves me most: finding people who, instead of surrendering to the situation, choose to transform it. And each encounter like this reinforces in me the certainty that stories, when told truthfully, are also a form of resistance.

Bruno

That's how it was with Mestre Naldo. Upon hearing about Miauventuras , he embraced the cause with enthusiasm. Born and raised in Santo Amaro, he discovered capoeira at the age of eight through a social project. Perhaps because of this, as an adult in a scene where only football gained prominence, he felt the desire to give back. Without sponsorship, guided only by courage, he created the Santo Amaro Capoeira Project with a clear purpose: to offer children a path of discipline, belonging, and self-esteem, far from influences that could divert them from their dreams. Today, 25 years later, his roda (capoeira circle) continues to turn.

Angélica

While the children burned off energy dancing, I chatted with Angélica, his fiancée. She has that rare gift of making you feel at home. In her way of listening and speaking, there's always a silent "welcome," a warmth that dispenses with formalities. With her, the conversation flowed as if we were old friends.

Mestre Naldo

I have to admit: Naldo leads his group masterfully. His booming voice, firm yet affectionate, echoes through the court, filling the space with authority and care. And, as I watched him, a thought kept nagging at me: how would I, with my naturally shy demeanor, manage my speech in front of the children? I saw so much confidence, so much fluency in him, that I wondered if I could rise to the occasion, if I could find the right words without disappointing him. But, at that moment, I gave him what was most genuine: my intention. It was an honor to be received so warmly by him and his students. To see firsthand the work he does as a cultural rescue and appreciation of the collective. The energy of the roda (capoeira circle), the attentive gazes, the mutual respect… everything there speaks of care and direction. He is one of those who refuse to stand idly by in the face of difficulties. Instead of surrendering to the situation, he chose to build alternatives. In his hands, capoeira is more than movement; it is structure, it is community, it is horizon. May the wheel never stop turning and continue to open paths where before there was only uncertainty, and shaping not only capoeira practitioners, but broader futures.

Victor

It was during this journey that I met Victor Lobisomem: a musician, composer, singer, capoeira practitioner, and cordel writer, he carries Brazilian culture in his body and words. While still young, he joined Mestre Camisa's capoeira academy, and it was there that he earned the nickname "Lobisomem" (Werewolf), a name that accompanies him today on stage, in his verses, and in the rodas (capoeira circles). A member of the Brazilian Academy of Cordel Literature and part of ABADÁ-CAPOEIRA, he dedicates his career to valuing the cultural riches of Ceará and Brazil. His work echoes cordel, samba, capoeira, theater, and cangaço – always with identity and commitment. But beyond the titles and recognition, what touched me most was his generosity. He not only opened his verses to me, he opened paths. He was the one who helped me take Miauventuras to other communities, sharing the project with friends, strengthening bridges, expanding encounters. But there was one moment that I cherish especially.

When Victor handed me his chapbooks and two of his books, I felt something difficult to put into words. It wasn't just the material gift—it was the gesture. It was the encounter between stories that recognize each other. Holding those verses in my hands was like touching a living tradition. Each page carried not only rhyme and meter, but memory and identity. There, in that simple and profound moment, I understood once again that popular culture is not something distant or folkloric. It pulsates. It connects. It welcomes. Receiving his books was more than a gift; it was a hug in the form of words.

Grécia is another person I take my hat off to. Even with her busy schedule, she was generous in giving me some of her time and showing me around the work of Anjos na Favela (Angels in the Favela). The visit began intensely at the Rinaldo de Lamare Center. Between the floors of the building, her cell phone didn't give her a break; she introduced me to the people in charge of the various sectors, answered calls, resolved issues—all with admirable ease. I was received with enthusiasm. I talked about the book, about the Little Writer Project, and on one of the floors the conversation took on a special glow: the women who welcomed me were also cat lovers. Just mentioning cats was enough to widen their smiles, and the excitement in the conversation reached another level, with each one talking about their cats. Afterwards, we crossed the avenue towards Rocinha.

It was there, at the Anjos na Favela headquarters, that I understood more deeply what care in action means. Support and information go hand in hand, in a simple, accessible, and profoundly human way. Each interaction is more than just a service provided: it's attentive listening, genuine acceptance, and another step towards autonomy. Between conversation circles, health and rights guidance, therapies, and support for families, especially those with neurodivergent or disabled individuals, there is something greater than assistance: presence is built.

Grécia

Greece and her team make care happen every day, right next to those who need it. Not with grand speeches, but with consistency, commitment, and humanity. As I said goodbye, I took with me more than just stories. I took the certainty that when care is continuous, it transforms people.

Now, an interesting moment in this journey was when I started offering the books in the communities: Itamar, from Santa Marta, was direct, welcoming, and accepted immediately. But, soon after, came a question that caught me by surprise. With Miauventuras still in the illustration phase, he wanted to know what I could offer the children during the school holidays. Something they could experience even before the book was finished. I confess: I hadn't thought of that. I talked to him again, and from that dialogue a simple and beautiful idea was born. We created a coloring booklet, introducing Baloo and Suki and using our central theme as a backdrop: Rio de Janeiro. On the day of the activity, while the drawings were being colored, the volunteers asked the children: "If you could take Baloo and Suki anywhere, where would it be?"

What happened next was a true festival of imagination. Incredible places emerged. Neighborhood corners, city dreams, spaces of affection and belonging. Each suggestion carried not only creativity, but identity. There, I understood something important: Miauventuras wasn't just a story being delivered; it was a story beginning to be built together with them.

And then there was Josué. I don't even know when he started recording everything. When I realized it, I was already there with my cell phone in hand, interviewing, laughing, striking up conversations, calling one person here, another there… involving everyone. In a few minutes, the meeting had already turned into an improvised mini-documentary. Some people arrive and observe. Josué arrives and stirs things up. It's enthusiasm that spreads, laughter that flows freely, a presence that illuminates the environment. One person, but it seems like a crowd.

Josué

I confess that, amidst so many emotions, it was special to see someone immerse themselves in that moment with such dedication. It wasn't just about recording. It was about participating while recording. The videos he made perfectly capture what that day was: intensity, joy, and truth. I will cherish each one, because something that transcends any image was recorded there.

Amidst the conversations, books, and gatherings, Cassiano, a leader in Santo Amaro, was there strengthening the evening even before it began, as his encouragement in promoting it was essential for the event to take shape and gain momentum. In the midst of the night's activity, our conversations were brief, but his presence was, for me, a source of honor and recognition. There are presences that don't occupy center stage, but sustain the entire scene.

Cassiano

Writing this now, I realize that in the beginning, besides the team that was always with me on illustrations, printing, and design – already hands-on – I had absolutely no contacts within the communities. And, to be honest, I didn't know where to start either.

Despite putting the cart before the horse, an unconventional way to start a project, I wasn't intimidated. I believe that, often, you need to go for it with courage and determination, with that "we'll think about it later" spirit. Otherwise, so many good things end up shelved. In my first attempt to establish contacts in the communities to organize the delivery of the books, I received no response. Gradually, I understood that there is already an established network of trust there, something that, at first glance, may seem difficult to access for someone coming from outside.

But I was never the type to accept "no" for an answer. If the intention was to share stories and open paths through books, I also needed to learn how to build bridges. So I decided to seek another direction and resorted to the simplest and most powerful resource: word of mouth among friends. Luciano, who is responsible for my website, is from Rio. It was only natural that he was my first contact. I remember he said he would call back, and he did. That's when he gave me the contact information for a friend, Márcia.

When I finally managed to speak with her and explain what I dreamed of achieving, it wasn't long before my phone started ringing nonstop, bringing a generous stream of precious contacts, a veritable influx of doors opening. To her, and to everyone who trusted and lent a hand, I will always be deeply grateful. They are an essential part of Miauventuras reaching the scale it has today, reaching key communities and finding, with each delivery, bright smiles on the faces of the children who received it with enthusiasm. These moments speak louder than words.

Other visits to Rio are already on my calendar. I will meet again, and discover, more curious eyes and hands ready to leaf through stories. Because encouraging reading is more than handing out books; it's about spreading possibilities. And, if each visit leaves at least one flame lit, then the whole journey will have been worthwhile.

Scott

On this journey, I learned more than I could have imagined. I learned about courage, listening, and presence. I gained something even more precious: friendships that were born along the way and that I will carry with me for life. In each of them, I found a different language, but the same commitment: not to remain silent in the face of what we can transform. In this sequel to Noëlle's Ark: Animals Around the World, Scott, Baloo, and Suki are much more than characters: they were the starting point of everything that flourishes today, the silent impulse behind each step, the true agents responsible for everything that happened. They not only traveled with me, they opened doors for every encounter.

Consulting and Review: Arthur Barbosa

Photos:

@brunoitan

Claudia Gurian

Personal Collection