Recently retired from life as a secret agent, I am now in a Witness Protection Programme where I’ve got a brand-new identity, name, and residence. My pedigree stretches back to Puss in Boots and beyond, and my lineage carries on through the many kittens I’ve sired in my line of duty. Of course, a gentlecat, such as I am, doesn’t kiss and tell about his many liaisons so don’t expect any sordid gutter press tabloid headlines in this column.
I was very busy in my previous life so it’s rather nice to just sit back and let the world pass by without having to constantly look at the calendar to see all the appointments mounting up that I had to fulfil.
I live with a Maid with an impeccable service record. There are two other felines in residence: a little whippersnapper called Gabion Tzchugge who seems to idolise me and a rather porky female called Chav Cat.
A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.
Janet F Faure