So there were TWO black cats. One died out on the street on Tuesday. The other made a beeline for me as I sat out on the seawall to watch the Half Marathon go past around 10.15. It was the cat that I took the picture of on Sunday; it knows me, jumps up to rub its head against my hand and holding my hand between its teeth when it is fed up with my stroking. I am still sad, having witnessed the death of another feline. Anyway, so the cat was allowed in. It spent the first hour and a half roaming the house, looking everywhere, and being given saucers of milk. It is absolutely fixated on myself, seems to think I'm the most amazing thing that ever happened to it. It's playful enough, although I believe it is fully adult (a tomcat). It doesn't miaow, and as I type this, it is lying at my feet on the carpet under the table where I usually sit with the laptop. It sat on the computer as it was starting up, which totally jiggered it. Had to restart, which does take a while with this aged machine (got it in 2008). Haven't made a decision whether the cat is going to stay for good, though.