A new life form entered the Trimble household last week and it has already got all four paws under the table.
It’s safe to say the little black cat who was meowing outside our living room window earlier this month has now made herself at home.
And it’s all my fault.
There I was being constantly murdered by 13-year-olds on Fortnite when I parted the curtains to look out the window and see a little black shape with yellow eyes looking up at me from the front garden.
And it wasn’t for moving away.
I opened the front door – thinking it would scarper – and was shocked when a small black blur whizzed passed me into the kitchen.
She’s been with us ever since.
We tried to find out where she came from – she’s as tame as a really mild korma so she must belong to someone.
My wife put a number of posts on local Facebook sites and contacted cat protection and I put a post on The Falkirk Herald’s Facebook page and website thinking someone would surely come forward and claim the wee furball.
We took her to the vet to have her scanned, but she hadn’t been chipped.
So now we’ve officially become her foster family, knowing someone could turn up and call her by her real name and take her off our hands.
They better hurry – I’m getting to like having her around.
We don’t know her real name, but my son calls her Nightshade. She joins a 12-year-old pug known as The Moosh, two tarantulas – Charlotte Trimble and Larry Livingstone – a giant African albino land snail called Gary and a corn snake called Harry.
I now feel like a second class citizen in my own home.