Mrs Slocombe.

Wifey is not known for her love of animals, in fact she is pretty much terrified of anything with fur. Lately she has become a tad braver, so much so in fact that we have almost kind of unofficially adopted a stray cat.
Over the summer there has been a ginger moggy hanging about our garden. Cats normally prompt a loud "gertcha" from me as I don't like the little parcels they leave behind and I'm not really a cat person. This cat however has been pretty persistent and whenever Wifey went to hang out the washing she would have to make sure the coast was clear as the cat would come and try to befriend her and she was having none of it.
Wifey started to feel a bit sorry for it and, convinced that it was a starving stray, she started to leave tinned tuna and a bowl of milk out for it.
We eventually discovered that the beast next doors mum had been feeding it and taking it in and so had the woman next to her, Rosie Raspberry. This cat is going to end up looking like Garfield.
Rosie Raspberry thinks that the cat belonged to a house nearer the end of the street where the owner died leaving the cat homeless.
The cat, known as Puss Puss by us and as Tilly by the beast next door (I don't believe he reads gemmaks blog so it must just be a coincidence) has melted Wifey's stoney heart.
She now buys cat food regularly, strokes it, opens the back door and invites it in the house although she is still scared of the thought that it might jump on her lap.
Whenever I see Wifey stroking the cat I do the born free music and makes comments about her constantly touching her ginger pussy. This is probably wearing a bit thin now in Wifey's eyes.

On Sunday Wifey had taken little'un to a party and I was out the back scraping a "present" off the sole of my boots, Puss Puss was lounging in the hallway by the front room. Big'un calls out for me to remove the cat as he doesn't want it near the room in which he is playing (presumbly he didn't want the cat to mess up his toys, he gets very uptight when his little brothers do this)
"I'm busy scraping sh-, er, cleaning my boots" I replied
A few minutes later Big'un comes and shuts the back door and when I went back in, noticing Puss Puss was no where in sight, I concluded that he had gone out and Big'un shut the door to stop him coming back.
Later that night Wifey says "is the cat out?" " yes, I'm pretty sure he is" says I. Before we went to bed I toured the house clicking my fingers, calling out "puss puss" and making kissy noises to attract the cat just to make sure he wasn't hiding. You can see where this is going can't you.
At around 02:30 I am awoken by Wifey leaping out of her skin "the friggin cat's in our bedroom!". I let the cat out for a comfort break and he didn't return.
Not only is Wifey regularly buying cat food she has also now bought a litter tray in case he has anymore sleepovers!