Monster loves the snow. It’s his thing and it’s finally here (but just about gone now, as I type this).
He has spent many hours outside and the Harry Potter Invisibility Cloak (patent pending) almost works. Cat? What cat?
Here he is channelling his “inner Gemma” and if you don’t know who I mean, I suggest you do a quick internet search of “Gemma, Dancing on Ice” and you will get the joke. In this house we are strangely addicted to DOI at the moment. It has a wierd car crash appeal.
Anyway, our star is not available for comment.
The rustle of a crisp packet usually does the trick, though never prawn cocktail flavour (so you know). These days they hunt in pairs. Both of these beggars can hear one being opened from another room and have tummy-clocks you could set your watch to.