Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

It's raining in Baltimore. Not storming; just a slow, steady rain, but with large raindrops (making that special "big raindrops" sound). I just wandered upstairs to have a look, and heard Perrine jump off the radiator as I climbed the stairs.

When I got to the doorway of the back room, I saw a patient, uncomfortable-looking, damp, grey cat sitting on the windowsill. I moved slowly, so as not to startle him, and spent a while just watching. He was looking a different direction at first, but he did turn to look into the room again and our eyes met. Perrine, who had met me in the doorway, returned to a spot in front of the window, gazing up at her suitor. The grey tom sat there, almost looking as though he expected to be let in. I felt sorry for him, sitting in the rain.

I wondered whether, if I were to open the window, he would flee at my approach or come inside to get out of the rain and into Perrine. I wondered, but my curiosity (and my sympathy for the rained-upon) was not enough to tempt me to perform the experiment.

It was a sweet tableau, a cat on each side of the windowpane, but my nearest camera was two floors away, and I knew the pose would not last long enough for me to fetch the camera. After a little while, the tom turned to jump down to the roof (showing me in the process that my guess of his sex was correct), and Perrine leaned forward to watch his departure. Then she followed me back downstairs to sit in my lap while I wrote this.