I HAVE a new cat, and his name is Pluto. He is a Persian kitten, the third in a litter born on 6 July 2006 in Pune, the second-largest city in the state of Maharashtra. I took him home through seven hours of driving back to Mumbai, no thanks to the sudden downpour that clogged the streets. Through the havoc, he took turns sleeping on my lap and playing with my necklace. What a fantastic preview of things to come as he grows up. Or as we grow up together. Those of you who knew about my cats in Israel (Tiger, Cleopatra, Java, and that moogie that almost killed me in the kitchen) will be delighted that Pluto not only shares their brown colors (he is a red tabby), he also likes to dance with someone looking like Behi Sobhani. (The breeder, a young Indian man who also breeds bonsais and terrariums, looks like Behi Sobhani. When he jumped up to fetch something from the kitchen, Pluto must have thought that the young man was about to dance, so he jumped up along with him.)