The thing about theft is that, as in a post-truth world, it’s all in the eye, or hand, of the beholder, or the be-stealer. One cat’s burglary is another cat’s night-time stroll around the neighborhood. I mean, just ask Cary Grant in To Catch A Thief. Was there ever a more handsome, urbane, lovely and gorgeous two-legged feline as Mr Grant? The answer is: there wasn’t, and Gracie knew it, too.
In fact, do whatever you can to obtain a copy of the film so that you, too, can share in the joy of watching two thoroughbreds going through their paces. Not to mention Alfred’s involvement in the minor role of director. And while I’m at it, gather in Sabrina (the 1954 Billy Wilder version, the best and only one to watch), too, and make a rainy Saturday afternoon of it with Audrey Hepburn, Humphrey Bogart and William Holden. Now they were real movie stars, grasshopper, and don’t even get me started on Ava Gardner, Virginia Mayo, or Greer Garson. Or Errol Flynn, or Gary Cooper, or Randolph Scott. Just don’t – well, maybe another time, then.