It is vile weather in Sheffield. Noonah was coming into the house from the office, and encountered Scotty, mewling pathetically just outside the catflap. He was a Very Wet Cat. Once she opened the door, she saw the reason. Beckett was sat, growling, just inside the door and pouncing on any cat who had the temerity to try and enter.
Noonah came upstairs and laughingly told Maia and I this story.
Maia sighed, and went through to the kitchen. From there we heard
"Scotty, come here please. Beckett, I want you to say sorry. You are a very naughty cat."
When she came back into the living room, I asked if Beckett had said sorry. She turned to me with a comically profound look of disappointment on her face and said
"No. He is a Very Naughty Cat."
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