Late night. Walking home along a dimly-lit street. This cat detaches itself from the shadows with a chirrup, hurries forwards and far-too-comfortably rubs itself against both ankles. “Hullo, cat” I say, and it proceeds to pad off just in front of my feet, always craning backwards to see i am still there, coming back occasionally for another chirp and ankle rub. Afraid that i might have given it the wrong idea, i apologise. “Sorry mate,” i say, “i can’t take you home.” And it stops and sits on the old tarmac and watches me go.