We went into town for a couple of bits on Saturday morning, and while we were brunching in Leonardos (mot much to see at that site, move along), my phone rang. An unrecognised number, but a Hull one, so I answered it.
“Do you have a little cream cat with three legs?” – dear god, not again, I thought, please let nothing have happened to her. But not, she was hanging around outside a house towards the end of the road, and they were kind enough to phone. I’m sure people do this because she is a three-legged monster, but I’m very glad that they do take the trouble.
I explained that she is a roamer, and asked them please not to let her in, or feed her, and she would lurch home in her own good time, and of course, thanked them for taking the trouble. But, of course, she didn’t lurch home. We didn’t see her for the rest of Saturday, nor overnight, nor on Sunday morning. I went out calling for her in the morning, but no sign. So we went to do the shopping, and I thought I’d give this kind person a call when I got back.
And of course, there she was on the bed, curled up with Ron, looking as baleful as ever. She was very hungry, so Lord knows where she’d been this time. I do wish she wouldn’t do this.
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