Cats and feathers in Auvillar

I was sitting in the ancient market square in Auvillar, taking a few quiet moments alone to think about my story, what I was learning. And down the street came scampering the most adorable little black cat.

Her owner, sitting on the step in front of the hotel where the cat lives,

said her name is Lulabelle.

Lulabelle was chasing a leaf, but took a detour and stopped to sit at my feet for a little ear scratch. I'd been away from my cats for 10 days, and little Lulabelle made me miss them. We played and petted and talked pidgin French and laughed, Lulabelle's owner joining in.

And then a tiny white feather floated down from the sky

and landed on Lulabelle's tail.

Oh, feathers, feathers, feathers.