''Do not enter the room! Dangerous animal!": armed with this ominous sign, Paola Capriolo and her husband set off on vacation. Yes, because along with them, always, Ela, a tawny-haired cat with a charismatic disposition who cannot be endangered by the recklessness of a maid who leaves the door wide open to give air to the room... A chronicle of a real-life journey in which that ''model of feline resignation'' is dragged from one end of Greece to the other, a quasi-guide to all the unforeseen contingencies that can occur if you pack a cat, this book is at once a literary meditation on the partnership that since the dawn of history has united humans and felines and the ironic, very serious declaration of a surrender to the task of explaining their mystery with words: ''If there is to be any hope of understanding anything of his nature and establishing a proper relationship with him, it should never be forgotten that the cat has entered the human world not in the role of a useful companion or even less of a servant, but even in that of a little god, and though he has had to endure the fiercest persecution since the time when he was worshipped by the ancient Egyptians, he has after all never ceased to regard himself as such.''