The answer to the little quiz, of course, is that I had so little to write about in my column that I agreed to let Monette, aka the ungovernable French cat, sink her teeth into my left index finger.
It is a sad little story, starting with my elder daughter Christelle's big project, three months' leave of absence to work on an African game reserve, and ending with the all-too-true comment of a friend, Jon Ryan, that beautiful as Monette may be, you look into her eyes and see directly into the jungle.
Along the way, Christelle is alerted by her dad to the need for rabies injections (although fear of rabies may not be the first thing that springs to mind if you are mauled by a lion), and dad is told he needs five rabies injections after being bitten by a non-rabid family pet.
Professional etiquette required that I should not write my Wednesday column here before it appeared, as it were, there. Today is that day, and you can read it if you wish by following this link.
You'll get the idea from what I wrote that if I was looking for the sympathy and support of loved ones, I was being wildly optimistic.
Added to Mme Salut's initially dismissive response, and elder daughter's concern for Monette ("she must have been terrified to do that"), younger daughter Nathalie now chips in with the question: "So is she letting you stroke her again?"
Perhaps my mistake was simply in not being a cat.
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