Cats and birds

The neighbour has two cats, and those are probably the things I will miss the most when we move. Whenever we open the back door, at least one of them will walk in. Their desire to hang out in our flat, rather than with their owner (and her mad dog) even make them squeeze in through the metal bars of the windows.

The fluffy one, Ash, really enjoys sleeping on our bed for a few (read: eight or nine) hours every day. Preferably on Tim's side (which I don't mind, since he leaves behind big clouds of thin fur). Occasionally, we are naughty and give them pieces of ham or fish, or whatever we are having to eat. (Yes, we know we shouldn't, but we are so weak!) So, after us being overly nice, you think you would get something back, and that they could at least do their catly duties. But no. The black birds keep screeching outside, loud enough to wake up the dead. And the cats couldn't care less! I now put my hopes to the squirrels, and that one of them will, if not giving them rabies then at least eat their babies... I'm evil, but I like my sleep!