I had a brilliant blog post all lined up.  I really did.  It was going to make you laugh, cry, think long and hard about life, and, ultimately, leave the world a better place.

Then this creature took a stroll across the keyboard.

Why!?!  Why do we let these evil creatures into our homes, our lives?

This particular minion of Old Harry took me two of the worst ferry crossings in my entire life and a day sat recovering in the Starbucks, Union Square, Aberdeen waiting for the world to stop going up and down.

You see him there in the garden, enjoying what he has clearly decided is a sacrificial plant, placed there for his lordship to devour.  But what, precisely, does he do to enhance my life?

I feed him, water him, change his litter, generally entertain him and provide him a place to sleep.   If he’s ill, I take him to the vets.  All of these things cost money.  And I do this voluntarily?

Cats have got a sweet deal going on.