Well, it was a year ago today that I went newt-spotting.  Our fishpond
seemed to be brimming with the things, and I spent more time than was
strictly necessary just gazing into its depths, watching the little things
swim around happily.  Sadly, I've not seen any this year.

However, I digress .... on 1 May, I was standingby the pond, watching, when
I realised that I was in fact being watched.  A grubby, white-and-black cat
was observing me.

That white-and-black cat turned out to be Fenchurch, although we didn't know
it at the time.  We went from "watching" to "accepting pettins" to "coming
into the house".  She's not awfully keen on The Out, instead being quite
happy to snooze in her boudoir.

Her temper has improved a bit, although she's still a tad snappy, and both
Rich and I have scars and scratches!  But she's very sweet when she wants to
be, and is managing to rub along with the others.  She seems to avoid Jasper
and Carrie if she can (although she's not averse to growling if they get too
close), but Bertie is her friend.  They play together quite a bit, although
sometimes play isn't terribly welcome at silly o'clock when it's on the
hoomins' bed, with hoomins in it.

I think she's done OK for herself!

Cathi