My beautiful little mate, Squonk, was killed on the road a fortnight ago. I miss her and so does her sister. Squiggle’s now coming to me more than she used to and sitting in my lap.

I’m getting the head-butts Squonk would have got. It still seems empty putting one lot of food down and seeing one cat in the window when I come home. Much of Squiggle’s miaowing seems to me to be asking where her sister is. That makes it feel emptier.