mostly david ephgrave

I’m a bit of a cat-whisperer. I live about half an hour’s walk away from the railway station; a route littered with potential feline assignations. There’s Timmy (the tabby one with the docked tail), Sid (black with white splodges), an as-of-yet unnamed black kitten – and, until a couple of days ago there was also Dally: the ginger cat with the high-pitched miaow, who liked to sunbathe in his front garden. Non cat-lovers are permitted to reach for the sick bucket. It’s safe to say that you’re either a cat person or you’re not. Correction: you’re either a cat person (Halle Berry), a ‘cat person’ (you like cats) or you’re not. I fall into the middle category; I’d look shit in a catsuit. My comedy partner Glyn would probably plump for option three . He once memorably described cats as “pointless”. He’s mellowed over time (my cat Millie showing enough affection to make him feel sufficiently guilty) – but generally, th...