A new cat on the block

Recently there's been a new cat on the block, meandering around along our front road, even venturing into George's garden. How very dare he?

At the risk of upsetting cat lovers there's something I've noticed about black cats: they all look the same. All except Julius. Even before his accident he didn't look like other black cats. He was fluffier for a start. And once he lost his eye he was even more easily identifiable. (He came home one day with it hanging out.)

This is Julius.

I was probably in my early teens when he lived with us. Before him we had Sophie, a tabby rescue cat, called Sophie after Sophie Tucker apparently because she'd already had lots of babies. No, I didn't understand the reference either. And after Julius there was Tuppence and now here we are in the realms of 'they-all-look-the-same'.

I'm pretty sure he came with me when I was married but after him Husband said, 'No more cats. I hate cats.'

So it wasn't until we bought our current house, which came with resident cat, Toby, that we had another.

He'd been adopted by the previous house owners when their daughter, a vet, had brought him home saying she couldn't have pets in her flat. And it was the same when they moved on to an apartment in the Marina: no pets allowed. I'm not sure what delighted our children the most when we went home and told them we'd bought a house and it came complete with swimming pool and cat.

By the way, to explain Toby's photo, I should say that my sons collected hub caps. Only lost and lonely ones you understand. I'm not sure the policemen understood when, called to our house after the theft of Husband's bicycle, they couldn't help but see the large collection decoratively arranged in our back yard. (It was the middle of the night when Husband suddenly sat up in bed and said, 'That's my bike! Someone's stealing my bike!' It had a very recognisable squeak apparently.)

But to get back to cats, here's Charlie, Daughter's female cat.

You see what I mean? They all look alike.