The weather is getting colder.
Gillian’s semi-feral cats no longer lounge about the garden waiting for me to come out with their breakfast. When I came down this morning there were three in the kitchen – two trying to prise open the refrigerator and a third to keep watch. They didn’t see me coming.
Poor Jester – Frederick’s ghostly dog goes nuts when he sees them but they know he can’t hurt them and ignore his frenzied barking. Of course, that makes him all the more frenzied. I took a tin of tuna out of the top cupboard and they attacked. They’re like tiny ninjas in fur coats but their claws are no match for my skin.
They got their tuna.