A few things by way of introduction. For years, indeed nearly the entirety of my young life, you walking patrons of this, the beautiful vieux carre, have likely noticed me darting around the carpet floor of Mr. Beckham and Mr. Cook's shop, lounging comfortably by the fading graybrown wood window, and defending myself from unwarranted attacks by stray pieces of plastic wrap and packing tape (though a worthy foe you are, you shall never beat me fiendish plastic wrap!). Many of you have taken to coming inside and petting my back or scratching my face or knocking my nose around playfully. To you I give unending gratitude.
I would like to take some time to answer some of the more pressing questions that you regularly seem to ask me and which, but for my inability to make the proper sounds of English with my narrow jaw, I would happily answer. My name is Juniper. I am a boy cat. Yes I like, nay love, it when you playfully scratch my head. I am four years old going on a whisker ...that's an old cat joke. Yes I can read (I do live in a bookshop) and while it's always difficult to pick a favorite writer, today my mood is quaintly Faulkner-esque (though I doff my ears to Haruki Murakami as he seems to have some amazing insights into the soul of my species...suspiciously amazing now that I think about it) . And finally, I'm always excited to meet new people and if we haven't met yet, well come on by and say hello already!
One last note: At risk of upending my own grandiloquent vocabulary and sounding somehow crass, I would like to take a moment to send a message to the birds: I will find you. I will eat you.
Here's a picture of me next to my latest reading pile - a collection of cookbooks. Tonight's main dish: Cerulean Warbler.