Moving slowly onwards

Because, you know, I MUST have a cat companion. I can’t exist without one, I now know that.

There was a time, after Chic died, when I thought I could: although I’d attempted to follow his subtle instructions for how to manage without him and had two Russian Blues, one after the other, they were disasters (as I wrote). And after on-selling the second one I was convinced I was OK without.

Then Leanne-up-the-corridor gave me a small ginger kitty and that was that. I’d got to a point where I coul...