Miledi
Miledi. She is my favourite. Her age, perhaps, is
the Balzac by the cat measures. She is an aristocrat essentially/ She jumps on
my knees as if she does me a favour. She takes food only from my palm. She
raises nothing from the ground. She always considers herself to be a hostess of
situation everywhere. She looks at passing by cats rigidly screwing up her eyes
(like a knight at his enemy through a visor). She is terribly jealous. It is
even difficult to imagine to stroke another cat: she leaves very significantly
without looking back. She is miser for caresses. She mews hardly audible and she
sits immovable like sphinx. There is something mediaeval in this cat. I cannot
explain...
