For two weeks I’ve seen no cats in London close enough to photograph. Last night it started raining and I figured the jig was up. No cats.
Then, this morning, we decided to go up to Portobello Road and browse the antiques. We got off the bus and Marian suddenly motioned for me to slow down. The proximate cause was this little cutie-pie of a cat who came over and let us scratch her head while she smooched around the gate:
A minute later, I saw a shop across the street that announced itself as a Pet Boutiqué & Cafe Lounge. Was this one of those cafes that has cats roaming around? No, but it did have this magnificent Grumpy Cat wannabe lounging on one of its pink stools:
Two cats this week! But we’re not finished yet. Remember that gray cat from last week who was prowling around Edwardes Square Park but disappeared into the foliage before I could get a picture? On our way home, we saw him again. He clearly didn’t want to make a new friend, but he was kind enough to pose for a glamour shot before he hightailed it away:
Not done yet! We got home, and around dusk the tiger-stripe cat showed up again. He was friendly and came up to me, but then I made the huge mistake of picking him up. That was OK, but then I walked into the house and he went crazy. So this is the best picture I got:
And there’s more! It turns out the white cat was watching the whole thing:
After two weeks of drought, it was suddenly pouring cats. So why not put up one more? Last night, thinking that it was time to give up on London cats, I decided to photoshop a picture of my mother’s cats onto some London scenery. Since I went to all that trouble, I might as well put it up. Here are Luna and Lilly keeping a close eye on the pigeons in Trafalgar Square.