Her name is Lola

And she’s a show cat…

Sorry Barry Manilow…but Lola is certainly showing herself off as she perches on the boxes outside her owners’ store. Babette is mad about her. In fact, if it came to be a choice between Jean-Pierre and Lola, I suspect we would see Jean-Pierre walking down the street with his suitcases.

Lola’s kittenhood was not that easy…Her joy at taking the toilet paper and pulling until none was left on the rolls, getting her head stuck under a door which necessitated that the door had to be replaced because of the damage in rescuing her was only met with murmurs of how clever she was from Babette while Jean-Pierre remained silent as he patted his poodle Mr. Bill.
Lola’s plaintiff cries could be heard up and down the street before she had her shots and could be allowed to claim her part of her territory outside, which is not willing to share with Ptah II, my friend’s cat who only appears on market days but was regularly chased back into my friend’s store. If Ptah II, who is all white and triple the weight, sat on Lola, I suspect the cat would look like one of those cartoon cats flattened into one dimension by some tragedy. It will never happen because he is always running away.

Tintin, a dog of dubious parentage, walks by her looking the other way. I suspect they have some kind of pact of –If-you-don’t-look-at-me-I-won’t-scratch-your-eyes-out.
Bianca the tiger cat and Lola also seem to have some sort of agreement.

As a mature cat, most shenanigans are behind her. Maybe there was a television show she watched showing Queen Elizabeth’s regalness. In any case she has a developed a dignity that only accentuates a royal attitude. When Lola gets tired of posing outside from her box throne, she will enter the store, and find a sleeping place near the tubes of mayonnaise and please do not make too much noise, folks when an order is being rung up. "We royal cats need our sleep you know."