Here I am looking dreamy and distant in my new perch in my new house. Almost the entire house has my scent around it now, which is comforting. And I can take some time to rest and stare out the window now that settling-in work is getting finished.
I'm trying to perfect my dreamy and distant pose because I live in constant hope that Anna Wintour will start a Kitty Vogue and I'd just love to be a cover cat. Especially now that I know I'm French, it has only confirmed my belief that I am cut out for a much grander life than the one I'm living now. I dream of crazy catnip parties, excellent wet food at all hours, and no humans trying to cuddle with me.
I have met one of the local-yokel cats who live in my new neighborhood. The Little Black Cat comes and hangs around on the deck outside. He sticks his little head right up to the glass front door, and the other day my female human didn't even realize he was here - she thought he was a reflection of me in the glass (goes to show she can't appreciate my beauty). So he and I jumped up and down a few times - I made my tail puffy to show him who he's messing with - and he did some stupid cat thing where he ran into the glass trying to get to me. Dumb*ss.
Why, oh why, couldn't the humans taken me to New York or somewhere that has the class and culture deserving of my presence? But no, they just keep thinking of more and more ways to degrade the wonder that is me.
Someday they'll learn.