He was born on 9 May 2024 and lives on a shaded Larnaca balcony that stays closed to the street. Mornings he hops the length of a pen with a hide box, a litter corner, and hay he can reach all day. Hay is the meal. Pellets are a measured scoop, greens are a handful, and sweet treats stay off the list.

Summer is the real limit on this coast. When the balcony warms past comfort he comes inside to a tiled corner with a fan and fresh water, and he goes back out after the walls cool. He is handled every day so nails and the white coat stay easy. The pen is his map: cables and houseplants are outside it.

He is curious, quiet, and settled when the timetable does not change. Meet him at the bars, nose forward, ears soft against his cheeks.

The pen is long enough for three hops in a line, with a dig box of hay so the balcony tiles stay put. Nails are checked with the daily handle, and the white coat is looked over for mats under the chin. In July the outdoor hours shrink to early morning and the late breeze off the seafront. The rest of the day he is on the tile, fan on, hay still within reach. People on Grigori Afxentiou know the small white lop by the shaded screen. That is Lino.