I had to leave the office and run into town, so I decided to pop by my house to drop off some bits first.
So I unlocked the front door and there on the stairs was a cat. “Funny,” thought I, “I could have sworn I put Gif out before I left this morning – WTF? that’s not my cat!”
Meanwhile, the quite cute, fluffeh little kitten rubbed against my legs, had a stroke (I mean I stroked it, not that it suddenly keeled over and started fitting) and wandered out the door.
A few minutes exploration and I found a clue – a note from Harriett. She’d been passing and thought she’d grab some of her stuff that’s still there – seeing what she thought was my cat, she’d let him in and left him there, going on her merry way.
You just can’t make this stuff up…
