Ballanchine

Bally was born of the first litter here. He was the runt, so tiny, all the kitties of the litter lay on top of him and he was so squashed, I wondered if he would survive at all!

An elegant chap who grew very fast, he earned his name as a dancer when he was leapt upon by one of his siblings and threw an amazing backwards triple saumersalt.

He's not one of the Alpha boys. He's shy.

However, he's tall and elegant with a dramatic presence.

Last night I dreamed that I accompanied Bally to a big event. It was like turning up with a tall quiet elegant boy in a tuxedo at a place like San Simeon, the castle belonging to Hearst in the old Hollywood days.

Bally and myself walked regally between the long tables, admirers on either side.

There was a little platform on which my elegant black and white cat walked, and he was comfortable in his tuxedo.

He was so gracious and handsome. Several times, since he was the star of the occasion, I bent and kissed his head, and he accepted the tribute most graciously.

Unless you are a regular visitor here, it's difficult to get to know him well. He's shy. The dream was true insofar as he knows that he's an elegant and beautiful boy, but hey, let's face it, his markings lend validity to a dream that he appears with me wearing a tuxedo.

So, me in evening gown, accompanied by a handsome male in a tuxedo, we traverse the long hall between the tables at San Simeon.

Of course eventually at the end of our walk, the alpha boys, Stanley and Sylvio leap forward for attention.

It's OK that they do so.

We have made our impact, Ballanchine and myself, proudly dressed.

I never thought he'd be brave enough to step out in a crowd, but apparently he has his own sense of certainty.