This is the oddest of stories, but the fringe of sadness remains.
Yesterday, Saturday 24th May, I was sitting on the seawall waiting for the runners in the Stornoway Half Marathon to pass through. What came running across the road towards me but the black cat I thought had been killed by a car the previous Tuesday. It was all over me, and in the end I decided to let it inside. It was very cautious, very friendly, didn't do anything silly and ended up going to sleep on a kitchenchair for no less than four hours. Upon returning from a shopping trip, it was ready for going outside, so it was fed some goodies that were bought in the shop, upon which it resumed its rounds in the neighbourhood.
At around the same time, I had a message from a lady up the road, who had been missing her cat since last Tuesday. That had been a female cat, but she thought the one I had been picturing last Sunday was hers. No, the cat that is all over me is actually male. I had to break the news that her cat is most likely dead and gone. Very sad.
