I can’t find my cat. Well to be more accurate Mrs Grump can’t find the cat. I couldn’t care less. It brings dead birds home. I don’t want dead birds. Sometimes, when he’s on my lap and I’m stroking him he starts clawing at my legs. There’s no need for that. I have to shove him off and I end up with scratched legs and trousers with pulls in them. And the hair! Don’t even get me started on the hair!
Anyway, more so for Mrs Grump than me, please get in touch if you see him. But if he is in a happy loving home, as far as I’m concerned he can stay there.
As long as he doesn’t start defecating in our garden.
His name is Graham.