That darn cat appeared again.
It came all the way in and was eating cat biscuits. I could hear it munching its way through Peppa’s bowl. I’d pushed the kitchen door shut, or semi-shut, for no real reason. But because the door was shut it had no idea I was there…
Except it must have ears like a hawk. Or, you know, a well prepared cat, because I literally moved a foot (the body part rather than distance) and it was back out of the cat flap and away into the night.
I just want to see it. To know which cat it is. To solve a mystery.
And try and put it off this life of crime, as much as you can put a cat off anything.
I’m considering locking the cat flat to open one way – inwards- so that once it’s in, I’ve got it. But I’ve seen enough animated docunentaries to know that will not end well and there will be an insane cat loose in the house somewhere.
Or firmly attached to my face by razor sharp talons.
Maybe that’s a plan to put on the back burner…