Postcards from Mount Desert Island: Rent-a-Cat

A fluffy, brown tabby named Ruby lives across the street from the inn. In the morning, she often turns up on the front porch, hoping for a lap in which to sleep. She is not interested in the zucchini bread or blueberry-rum cake, scones, fruit-and-yogurt parfaits, mixed-berry pancakes, tomato frittatas, or risotto, which the rest of us enjoy. She's probably just finished snacking on a bird or a mouse.

The innkeepers aren't fond of cats and don't see her advantages, but she's very popular with us. We always feel cat-deprived in Maine, so we'll let her settle in for an hour, if she's willing, as we eat and chat. We're used to eating with one hand and petting Wendy with the other, so we're fine.

Napping in my husband's arms.

Curled up in a sleepy ball. Is that seaweed in her tail?

Continuing her nap on the floor.