Minette Le Minou
Because we’ve been away for a week and missing Beppo, of course everywhere we looked we saw cats. And we weren’t just seeing things, since at least in this part of France cats are ubiquitous. Instead of “here kitty” you can call French cats by saying “minou minou” or “minou minette” and they’ll come to you if they’re so inclined. This beauty was high up in a sculpture garden and not too interested in us.
Similarly, a cat soaking up the sun in the south of France doesn’t really need to get involved with people, even people who crave feline attention.
But just about every cafe has at least one cat, and if they don’t get served in a timely manner
they’re liable to come and fend for themselves. I confess to having given this guy a little piece of my fish, which he took a surprisingly long time to eat, perhaps protesting against the lemony sauce. He was said to be the pharmacy’s cat, but he looked right at home in the cafe, and especially plump.
Later we came upon these cats being served at their own impromptu buffet, a meal delightfully al fresco and with no offending sauces.
And for an after dinner drink there’s almost always fresh running water. All fountains are labeled, either eau potable or eau non potable, but I don’t think the cats are very concerned about whether or not the water is approved for human consumption.
Cats can also be employed to guard the Deux Chevaux
or even the house. And since one of those defenders of home and hearth looks kind of familiar, you know I have to sneak a picture of Beppo in here, if only to show where our loyalties lie.
Have I mentioned that we’re thinking again about getting him a kitten? A little French cutie, maybe called Minette.