Cat at the Window

January 23, 2006

flickr photo

“In 1830 it was a snug collection of modest one- and two- story frame dwellings, whose whitewashed exteriors were almost concealed from sight by climbing tangles of rose vines, honeysuckles, and morning glories. Each of these pretty homes had a garden in front fenced with white palings and opulently stocked with hollyhocks, marigolds, touch-me-nots, prince’s-feathers, and other old-fashioned flowers; while on the windowsills of the houses stood wooden boxes containing moss rose plants and terra-cotta pots in which grew a breed of geranium whose spread of intensely red blossoms accented the prevailing pink tint of the rose-clad house-front like an explosion of flame. When there was room on the ledge outside of the pots and boxes for a cat, the cat was there– in sunny weather–stretched at full length, asleep and blissful, with her furry belly to the sun and a paw curved over her nose. Then that house was complete, and its contentment and peace were made manifest to the world by this symbol, whose testimony is infallible. A home without a cat–and a well-fed, well-petted, and properly revered cat– may be a perfect home, perhaps, but how can it prove title?? ~~Mark Twain, “THE TRAGEDY OF PUDD’NHEAD WILSON?, 1893.

The image, El Me Mira asi – edit, was originally uploaded by caro…, and chosen as a FAV by Neddy at flickr.

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