A stately presence

We know there are other people living in our building, but so far we have met only one of them, a very friendly and very helpful woman named Pia. She and I chatter away with each other in a mix of my bad Italian and her not very strong English,  and have managed to establish that she likes hearing me practice the violin (I think she means it) and that I am glad that someone so forgiving lives upstairs.

We have also met, repeatedly, one other resident, a rather grand cat named Attila--which is pronounced, in the Italian manner, AH-tillah. I'm not even sure how we know his name, since we have never met his owner, the woman who lives in the apartment below ours. (I think last fall the realtor told Pam who he was, and she told us.)

Attila often hangs out in our building's front hall, guarding the mailboxes or inspecting whoever comes in the door. He is very dignified, handsome but quite portly, an Orson Welles sort of a cat. (This photo really does not do him justice, but it's the best one I've come up with in several days of trying.) Attila is wise to keep himself well insulated, since the hall is icy this time of year, thanks to the breeze that always seems to be blowing from the courtyard.

So dark I had to use flash

The other place I encounter him is in his little nest by his owner's front door, which I pass on the way up the stairs. The light in her part of the staircase is out, perhaps by design, so even in the middle of the day Attila's perch is crepuscular at best. I have to peer in to see if he's in residence or out on patrol.

I wonder if he is ever allowed into her apartment. After living without heat myself for just a few days, I can't help hoping that he gets to spend at least a little time curled up next to a nice, warm radiator.