When I came downstairs this morning I heard a noise from the conservatory, and thought I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. When I went to investigate, slightly nervously because my first thought was an entirely irrational worry that there might be a pigeon in there (I mean, not entirely irrational, because we have had a pigeon blunder into the conservatory before, but I'd have been surprised if a pigeon had managed to be in the conservatory all night unnoticed), I found the orange and white cat that is currently the most regular feline visitor to our garden perched on top of T's pub quiz machine. I opened the door, and it jumped out and sauntered out in an unhurried manner, seemingly entirely unaware that its head was covered in cobwebs (it had clearly been poking its nose into the dark corners of the conservatory). I have no idea whether it was there when I closed the doors last night (it was dark enough I wouldn't have seen it) and had been inside all night, or if, like the cat formerly known as #NotOurCat, which I think has gone off to be #NotSomeoneElse'sCat, it's learnt how to climb in through the back bedroom window.

This evening, as I was putting the car away, I spotted it in the wing mirror, sauntering nonchalantly out of the garage behind me.