Please meet the Queen.
This little furry beast has hung out on our front porch pretty regularly. The first time she was out there, on her throne, she gave me quite a start. I jumped but she barely lifted her head in any acknowledgement. Since then, Rockefeller and I have come home from walks to see her sprawled out on the porch. Rockefeller didn’t like it. Yet, again, she barely reacted to his furious barking. Her attitude was more like, “Bring it on you little mongrel…and then off with your head!” The other morning when I took this photo it was pretty much the same entitled attitude. She lifted her head in recognition of my existence. I politely explained to her that we didn’t want a pet cat and all the reasons for that; we already have a dog who clearly doesn’t like you, we just aren’t cat people, we don’t know where you have been or come from, ear mites, fleas etc. Her response? A long, heavy blink of those regal green eyes. She had spoken… I had been dismissed. I promptly turned to go back into the house before I could say, “Yes, my lady. I will bring you your bon bons and milk right away.”
(one last parting shot as I retreated)
If Miss Thing will be hanging around a bit then I decided I needed to call her something. Marie Antoinette fit the bill.