This morning Felix was king of the castle on the roof next door.
I can only imagine what adventures he has. Sometimes he’s away for hours. Last week he came home looking sorry for himself with a chewed neck ruff and bits of fur falling out.
What I do see or hear is Felix doing ‘zoomies’ around the house, ‘helping’ with bed making, running about on the roof (as if he’s wearing hob-nail boots), bringing in a rat or a mouse or a bird, disappearing over the back fence, climbing effortlessly up a tree, coming into the house and stomping across the wooden floor as if he would tell me what he’s been up to if he could, and following me down the street.
Here he is at midday, looking deceptively relaxed.
Anne-O-tations 