Some of you might remember my last foster kitten, Fred. Yeah, the scruffy
little escape artist with a good line in hiding in the hedge. Well, she's
two years old now, renamed Sapphire, and has enslaved my friend, the local
co-ordinator of Cats Protection. She's enslaved her to such a degree that
poor Shirley has no other cats. Yes, she runs a Branch of Cats Protection,
and only has one cat of her own.

Anyway, last week, I collected some jumble for our stall, and at the bottom
of a bag I found an almost new cat bed. I stuck it in the washing machine,
observed that it came out rather nicely, and rang Shirley to ask if she
could use another cat bed for her foster cats. Shirley said 'yes', and I
drove round to deliver it. I put it down on the stairs and within half a
second Sapphire had made herself comfortable in it. This cat has NEVER used
a cat bed in her life before. When she was my foster kitten, she slept in
the litter tray rather than the bed! It's almost as if the little sod KNEW
that it wasn't for her, and decided to show us who was boss.

Jeanette