A wild cat chase

Today was cat day. Scored a local advertiser rag, where there were cats aplenty. Fortunately Lorraine was with me, and drove me off to one place where there was a kitten, a fluffy little tabby, which looked nice enough, but was a bit scabby, and something about this slightly repelled me. Other kittens contacts proved elusive. Amazing how many folks will advertise something only to be unobtainable.

Lorraine then drove me to the RSPCA where I filled out a form to possibly adopt a second hand cat. (Or as I used to write for The Blue Cross pet charity "a cat that through no fault of its own needs another start in life"). Before I can adopt a used cat however I have to have my house inspected by an RSPCA visitor for catskin rugs etc.

Quite heartrending to walk past the dog pens. I don't even like dogs much. But unlike the rehoming centres I had visited before, where all the dogs had long faces (lurchers, greyhounds and the like) these were likable dogs with normal faces.

The cats were all quite grown up however, and I think I want a kitten.

Exhausted by futile cat searching, Lorraine and I ended up back at my house, where I made a Greek salad, and drank sparkling water with a judicious squeeze of lemon, and cups of tea, and had a couch potato fest: The X Factor (guilty pleasure), del Toro's utterly fab The Devil's Backbone, which I have seen several times. Then Match of the Day, to watch Chelsea win, and Manchester United lose. All's well with the world.

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