A weird little one this and a newie for me.
I've mentioned elsewhere we've got this cat that's a violent junkie for ham and not that boiled pig bollocks crap that looks like slices of pink spew. She's a real connoisseur.
Anyway this afternoon I notice she's curled up zonked out on the pillow she's newly colonised a few feet away from the fridge so I slice and butter one of these buns I regularly make from parmesan and dried tomato flour all the time checking she's still asleep until it finally comes to the moment when I have to smuggle the packet with the ham in it from the back of the top shelf and slip it surreptitiously under my plate so I can use it out o' sight but to my amazement her ears don't even stand up when I accidentally squeak the vinyl.
So I close the fridge door and she's still unconscious.
I start carefully moving forward all the time checking over various objects placed between us she's still dead to the world.
But as I pass the dining chair directly between us I lose sight of her for a moment until I look back and suddenly she's feebly struggling to lift herself up on two wobbling legs as if she has no strength in them from never having been fed for a million years gazing up at me with pitiful sorrow filled eyes emitting the most heart rending of weak mewks and I'm thinkin' to meself bli'me that's a new one normally she'd just tear me throat out.
Then I notice what's REALLY new.
There's two versions of her.
One fast asleep and this other version that looks as real as the sleeping one except it can't be because it's try'n'o climb out and sit up in the middle of the other one.
Anyone who wonders whether their beloved long dead Tiddles'll be there when they finally get to Heaven might reasonably take this as evidence that's indeed a possibility.