I was woken early this morning from a deep sleep by a hand on my shoulder. It was my husband, standing there fully dressed. He said,

"Fat 'n' Fluff was scratching at the window and he looks frightened, so I let him in….. I don't think he's hurt or anything but you'd better come and look……"

I dragged myself a layer closer to compos mentis, sat halfway up and mumbled that couldn't he just give the cat some grub to be going on with. With a neat side step and a shuffle worthy of Ali he said "I'm going to work.." and was down the stairs and out the front door. Fine. As in - "Hello, possible injured cat downstairs, 'Byeeee.." There wasn't, it was windy out and he just wanted an early breakfast - but I was very awake.

Well - Good Morning, Fat 'n' Fluff….

This cat is our neighbourhood version of a serial bigamist. He is a large long-haired ginger and white Casanova, with such a lovely face that no human, female or male, can resist his wiles. He has a permanent expression of slight concern that is so endearing you are instantly seduced.

Then he started to come to call. We called him Fat 'n' Fluff, because that's how he looked. He would appear at the kitchen window in the early morning and fix my husband with his winning stare and pathetic cries. As he was wearing a collar and looked well groomed my instinct was to ignore him, but the cat had chosen his sucker well. In no time he was a morning fixture. And then he started on me. It was the head butting, chirruping cries and the way he would nestle up to me that did it. He struck at my weak spot - I had always wanted a 'cuddlesome' cat, and my ginger boy, while looking fluffy as all get out and very loyal, is more of the -" Touch me without permission and I'll have your hand off " - variety. He sort of went that way after we had him castrated………

F 'n' F gradually started spending more and more time with us until I had to find out where he had come from. When I finally found Jean round the corner, she had been worrying about him for ages and was relieved to know he wasn't starving (not likely) and was generous enough to understand that we hadn't lured him, but had been 'chosen'. I also found out that his name was 'Arthur'. He was clearly a bit miffed when she came in to see him curled up on his now favourite chair - he'd been caught out by his 'Ex'. Or one of them.

It drove him mad. She would wait on the kitchen step at night and lie on her back sinuously waving her legs in the air - much to his neutered annoyance. He would bat paws at her, hiss and growl, and she would stare and then still get into formation right by his left ear and he would be forced to run for it in an undignified manner. Not fitting for an aging gentleman of about 10 years human (approx. 65 cat time).

In the end he couldn't take it, he abandoned us and Jean and all the neighbours who knew him - including widowed Mavis two doors away with whom he had spent many cosy winter afternoons before he found us - and moved in with a family two streets away. They are an older couple with two grown up children and no other pets. They all adore him, he can sleep on their beds all day, and they called him 'Paddy'.