She had a purr like a Harley-Davidson at idle, and she arched her back and quivered her tail and rubbed against us and meowed. So B poured her a saucer of milk.
Soon there were four cats on the terrace. None of them look as if they\re starving.
Tuesday morning I woke up and went out on the terrace. Before I could even open the door I heard our new friend's purr-box rumbling and a few chattered "Meow!"s.
Today, Wednesday, I woke up and B wasn't in bed. I went out on the terrace and saw the cat lapping at a saucer of milk, B looking out toward the caldera, all covered in fog, the sun not yet risen over the cliff east of us. Cat, woman, ocean, fog----a Zen painting.
I've taken a lot of pictures of the cat, and this one isn't the best, but here she is:
The queen of Oia.
She oversees her kingdom, which is vast.
Photo by B.
She expects food after already getting some.
Which makes her more cat than queen.
Photo by B.
Which makes her more cat than queen.
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