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It would be pretty easy to guess that Garfield was a tomcat even if you didn’t know his name—or didn’t want to peek under his tail.

The curious calico and her orange tomcat friend, Monu, had recently been sterilized and returned to the market.

He had traveled out with his wife and mother-in-law from the town of Vasylivka, just across the front line, with a few belongings in plastic bags and their ginger tomcat in a pet basket.

All the same, though there’s no reinvention of the genre here, Louder’s mesmerizing mouse proves more than a match for the assembled tomcats — all exuding machismo — with whom she must deal.

I stood tableside for a few minutes, in my apron, while he sat, napkin tucked under his chin and Prune vinaigrette still slick on his lips, purring like a drowsy tomcat.