So I picked up Freya, who of course clambered directly onto my shoulders, adjusted my parasol, and went for a walk to the edge of the garden. I thought I ought to start her off small. Freya was fairly happy with this arrangement under about halfway back, where she tried to climb onto my butt and stayed there until I got home, was photographed, twice, and has her removed. Apparently she looked a lot like a furry bustle, because both my mother and my sister commented on it.
When I got home, I picked up my teacup and went inside, then took cat, teacup and parasol back up to my dim white room where my computer lives.
As I type this, I hear the clop of my neighbors taking their horses down the road, and find myself thankful that we didn't pass each other, as it probably would have scared the poor girl out of her mind, or what is left of it. Though I imagine, if we did pass, it would have been quite an image for them, me dressed the way I do is quite enough of a spectacle without balancing a cat on my bottom.

She enjoyed it so much that I'm wondering if I shouldn't make Freya a lead and take her with us on walks. I don't usually hold with cats on leads, but she is blind. It would be more me on a lead, being her seeing-eye lady. Besides, she'll probably just get up on my shoulders again.