Harry goes to Paris

If ever a cat should have been a Parisian, it is Harry the Many-Haired One. Harry, he loves cookies. He loves sweets and chocolates. He loves pretty boxes and fancy things and silky ribbons. And he loooooves ladies who wear black and smell like Chanel No.5.

My friend Carol Gillott of the blog Paris Breakfasts saved Harry the indignity of a trans-continental flight (what? no fishy cat treats on silver trays in airplane cargo??) and painted him at Paris's grand tea house Laduree.

If you look closely, you'll see 

that he's surrounded by sparkles, 

and he's licking his lips over his

personal pyramid of tasty macarons.

(The way it should be, if you ask Harry.)

Thank you, Carol, for such a beautiful painting. And for boosting Harry's ego, which was quite brusied after having escaped when the softener salt delivery guy came last week and after having to sit in the vines under Ethel's tree for hours waiting for me to come rescue him. I can just see him out there, "This is great! I'm eating grass! I'm barfing it up! I'm smelling everything! I'm over at Ethel's! Wait, um, it's hot. I'm hungry. Where's Momma? I'm tired. I miss snuggling with Sammy. Where is she?? I want to sleep on the couch. I even miss Jingle Belle. Mommmmmma!" He hasn't gone near an outside door since.

Best to enjoy that portrait as an inside cat, Harry.

P.S. Want to see YOUR livestock or pet in a painting at Laduree? Contact Carol here!