A cheeky visitor has been popping into my house. Either he nips through the front door as I'm entering or has been making an appearance through my previously redundant cat flap. He is incredibly affectionate and always up for a dish of milk. Louis is delighted. He's a sucker for anything cute and cuddly;
He's been around more often lately and I've pondered about where he comes from. Could he be a friendly stray who's adopted us? Now I know I've said that I'll never have pets but what if we are chosen? I thought about investing in a cat collar from Poundland and popping a note on it to find out if anyone owned him. Then Barbie Nurse cautioned me against that. She said that kitties can suffocate by getting caught on branches wearing them.
At the weekend Red Mel even gave him a name He's called Corbyn because he's not a fat cat! I decided to make a few enquiries before investing in a few pouches of Felix and a pet plan. My detective work didn't take long. He belongs to my next door neighbour and is a bit on the scrawny side because he's reached the ripe old age of 17 years old. Maybe he comes around to my house for a bit of peace and quiet. There's a toddler in his own home that is definitely going through the tantrum stage. And his real name? It's Scooby. I think though I prefer his new one!