Catcall

Much as I love finding well-placed double entendres in texts, I have never before come across “catcall” used in the context of a casting call for cats.

I just finished reading a book that is deservedly on the best-seller list: Fifth Avenue, 5 A.M, Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and the Dawn of the Modern Woman, by Sam Wasson. For anybody who is a Breakfast at Tiffany’s junkie, this book is a must-read. There is fascinating and brand-new information about Audrey Hepburn, Truman Capote, George Peppard, Patricia Neal, Henri Mancini (Audrey Hepburn said he was the “hippest cat”), and all of the movie’s major players, both in front of and behind the camera, including the only feline character in the film, who was aptly named “Cat.”

Buy the book and go immediately to page 116 to read all about the cats who auditioned in New York City to play the part of Holly Golightly’s orange tabby cat. The description of the casting call puts the reader right in the director’s seat, trying to determine which of the twenty-five orange cats deserved movie contracts. A twelve-pounder named Orangey won star billing (twelve cats were used "in rotation").

I haven’t yet moved into the realm of being a stage mother of our ten felines. But reading this new book made me think about our three orange boys, and whether Lucius or Leo (Linus is too diminutive) could star in a remake of the Hollywood classic.

Should Leo get the part, I could always audition Lucius for a new production of Sunset Boulevard. I can hear him now, all too well: “All right, Cat Lady, I'm ready for my close-up.”

Query of the Day: What’s your favorite feline scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s?