(All images courtesy of Henri, Le Chat Noir)
This article originally appeared in Catster.
There are those who embrace fame, and others who are simply repelled by it. Henri, Le Chat Noir, seems to have perfectly straddled both. He is a true elitist, reveling in his existentialist musings of life with L'Imbecile Blanc (The White Idiot), the other entity in his Seattle household, who seems to be the cat equivalent of Oscar Madison to Henri's Felix Unger.
Henri is perpetually blasé, yet continuously a font of hilarity. During a break between napping and making fine French films, Henri mused briefly -- and waxed poetically -- on his life so far.
Henri says, "Every day I lie on newspapers, yet I learn nothing. Sort of like you with the internet."
Catster: Besides the Thieving Filmmaker [Henri's owner, filmmaker and writer Will Braden], who are some of your favorite auteurs?
Henri: The Thieving Filmmaker is far from a favorite of mine. I prefer non-exploitative artists, who have their personal lives in order ... like Edith Piaf.
You call your domestic partner L'Imbecile Blanc. What does he call you? Does he speak French?
He speaks dumb. I am not fluent in it.
What is "sexy" to you these days?
Being left alone.
Now that Lil Bub has won the Tribeca Film Festival, how does that make you feel? Have you thought about "going Hollywood"?
I don't see myself going to Hollywood. It's too bright and cheerful. I prefer the rain here in Seattle.
Your book is out. Have you done many book readings and how do you sign autographs?
The Thieving Filmmaker has plastered his name all over my book, and so he is invited to all of the book signings instead of me. It is a complete injustice.
Henri says, "Half of me feels the innate happiness from being in the box, yet half of me knows that it is an ephemeral and meaningless feeling."
Does it annoy you when people use the word "cat" to make up new words or punctuate others, like CATalyst or CATITUDE? Or do you embrace it? Have you come up with any new words yourself?
I made a reluctant peace with "Caturday," but when I heard "Mewsday," I had to draw the line.
Are you happy?
Happiness is a myth.
Henri says, "When this nonsense begins anew, it can only mean that another film exploiting my ennui is imminent."
Complete the following sentences: It's 5 a.m. The sun is barely up and neither is anyone else. I take the opportunity to ...
Contemplate the metaphor of life as an endless, meaningless circle.
While I prefer French films, I also like ...
Rainy days and Mondays always ...
End up the same as sunny Fridays. Life marches on regardless of the weather or our arbitrary daily distinctions.
This is Sailor. She's a Chihuahua and weighs six pounds. Would you ever consider living with a dog, and what goes through your mind when you see a canine like this?
What goes through my mind when I see any dog is about what goes through their minds all the time ... nothing.
Have you seen the documentary (and subsequent Drew Barrymore HBO miniseries) Grey Gardens? Would you ever consider living with a multitude of cats, just for the company?
I live with three cats already. I am beginning to understand what Sartre meant when he said, "Hell is other cats."
Previously we've talked about cat breading and dog shaming. Then came dogs in pantyhose. Please give us your two cents on why this is amusing (if at all) and why this is happening.
Henri says: "If you stare deeply into l'imbecile blanc's eyes, you can hear the ocean."
There are very few times where I feel sorry for dogs, but this is one of them. Their dimwitted subservience is destined to get them into troubling situations like this. A cat would never wear pantyhose without a significant fight.
What is your favorite form of exercise?
Once I found out that the little red dot was a lie, I gave up on focused exercise. I do walk a lot, while pondering existence ... and wondering when my dinner will finally arrive.
Have you ever met Lil Bub, Colonel Meow, or Grumpy Cat? Would you like to?
The Thieving Filmmaker has met Lil Bub before, but I have not. I am mistaken for Grumpy Cat at times, as though grumpiness and existential angst were one and the same -- yet how could that possibly be?