On Renoir's "Julie Manet with Cat"

In the living room, I sit in a large, comfortable chair with my cat, Ginger, asleep on my lap. It is 12:00 in the afternoon and I have just finished my grilled cheese sandwich. Ginger fell asleep with her face in her milk during lunch, and my brother Pierre yelled across the table when he saw her. We mopped her up and now she's curled up on my white and golden skirt. She's a tabby, and some of her stripes look golden, too. I am thinking about falling asleep. Pierre is apparently thinking about it too, because he is arranging a pillow and blanket and lying down on the sofa across the room. Ginger purrs in her sleep. It sounds like she is having a good dream.