Bambino Bobble Wilson is a house cat. This is because, despite living in the middle of fields, the A road that passes through the fields is a horrid one. Its length and country lane feel encourages people to sometimes drive like maniacs. People have died on this road because of their devil-may-care driving yet still this knowledge makes no difference to some. And Bambino is the sort of casual cat who would wander out into the road, think, ‘This is a nice place to sprawl and sunbathe’ and get himself squished.
Anyway, since we had the side gate and fencing installed last Summer for the Health and Safety of Nell the ‘Poo, Bambino has taken to venturing outside on rare occasions, though never further than the courtyard. Here he is, emerging from the laundry, having checked out the swallows’ accommodation…
But this morning, whilst Nell was off on a walk with Lord Malarkey, Bambino ventured further up the garden…
This perambulation was all done at a very regal and sedate pace. In fact, I think the word for it would be ‘mooching.’ He mooched around the courtyard before mooching up the steps and onto the middle garden, when he mooched under the trees and around a seating area, before mooching across the lawn to where I was perched on the stump of the apple tree that was felled early last year.
I mooched indoors to make a cup of tea, and he mooched back with me, settling by the back door for a while…
Later on, I found him right up the far end of the garden behind the potting shed. I fear I may have unleashed a cat with new-found wanderlust.
I am still waiting for my ‘urgent’ biopsy. Four weeks and counting…
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