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The black cat who wishes to adopt me was busily telling me how hungry he was this very morn.
Bored.
Now.
Morning.
We had the latest instalment in the adventures of Mr Tiddles last night when he got himself up on the flat roof at the side of the house and decided he couldn't get back down again.
Mrs B went to put the bin out and heard plaintive mewing from above. Cue 10 minutes of calling and coaxing to get him in through the landing window (didn't work, he just sat there and looked at it.) followed by me leaning out of said window, grabbing him by the scruff and hauling him back in.
He'd been in and out all evening with his tail bushed up and generally haring around like a mad thing so I suspect he's had a run in with the local boss cat and retreated to the roof in a panic when he couldn't get back inside.
"Being nice costs nothing and sometimes gets you extra bacon" - Pondlife.
I remember a previous cat to ZeitMog who decided that the ladder leaning against the wall was too good to resist & ended up on the roof of the terrace.
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