I often think of all the cats doomed to a cushioned life in the confines of a house or apartment, who are seldom allowed outdoors. What a contrast to the free-spirited cat, who once gave us the privilege of being her hostess!

At seven o'clock one morning, an elegant black cat with a rhinestone collar appeared at our dinette window, meowing to be let in. How did she get four flights up?

Protected by a pair of gloves and wearing an old coat, I opened the balcony door, and she hopped in confidently. I proceeded to grab hold of her gently, and asked her what she was doing up so high. She merely struggled a bit in my arms. I cajoled her with sweet talk, as I carried her down four flights of stairs to the front lawn. Upon release she gave me a dirty look, and departed purposefully.

The same aristocratic visitor came almost every morning for a week, and we went through the usual chummy routine.

One evening, while watching television, we saw her on the balcony again. This time we kept her waiting. Her Majesty took exception to this treatment, and leaping up onto our balcony railing, disappeared up the brick wall to the balcony above through a narrow slit in the metal panel. So that was her method!

We learned that she had climbed up as high as a dozen storeys, and being totally black, had alarmed an elderly woman. We also found out that the cat held reign in a house around the corner, but had this passion for heights.

Well by now she will likely be found happily climbing far up the unending balconies of gold.

      By Norma C. Plummer