March 18th – A brief run out on a wolfish, windy afternoon had me glared at by a resident of… Catshill. 

This grey and white, somewhat scornful fellow was watching me contemptuously from the far bank of the canal, just past the Anchor pub. I’ve never seen in before, but from the small grey dot on his nose to the subtle striped tail, he’s clearly a lovely cat.

I noticed he seems to be sitting at the mouth of a fox set, too. Wonder if the resident was inside, wishing the cat would bugger off?