By Martyn Henry
 I can see it now.
We are going to be ‘that weird couple living up near the park.
You know, the ones with the cats….” (raised eyebrows, sad shaking of the head…).
No sooner do I report the addition of Sebastian than we seem to have acquired yet another feline adoptee.
This one was more of an emergency case.
My wife heard pathetic mewing as she walked in the park a couple of days in a row. But, as usual, the cat, despite obviously calling for help, refused to show itself.
Then he did.
A couple of guys reported he had been dumped in a plastic bag some days earlier and had been crying ever since.
So, quite naturally, he was picked up and brought home.
And strangely enough, the other cats didn’t try to murder him.
Oh, they showed the usual signs of confusion and concern at another scent appearing in the household and there was much sniffing underneath the sofa, where the little chap has taken refuge but apart from that he seems to have been accepted.
(Poor Sebastian is still getting the ‘get out of town’ treatment from the others, however, and he seems to have adjusted to his semi-detached position).
He agreed to being picked up, only because he was too little to resist, but attacked a small bowl of cat food with gusto. He can’t have eaten in days, bless him.
So he had to have a name.
He was found in the park, so I thought perhaps Parker, after Lady Penelope’s chauffeur in Thunderbirds (oh, I see, you are far too young to remember that are you?) but that didn’t really seem to fit as he didn’t have the air of a trusted retainer somehow.
He is a little wild, still, so we thought perhaps Oscar (Oscar Wilde? Please try to keep up).
That seemed to stick and I suspect there will be another vet’s book opened up soon in this name.
We are well aware that this can’t go on. We’ll have to move out and take up residence in the garden if we take in any more cats and our small dog, who has shown admirable, if resigned, patience as each new feline has been added to the class register, may finally rebel and take us to the European Court of Canine Rights.
But, in the meantime, I suppose we will have to wait until Oscar honours us with his trust and decides that there is a world beyond the underside of the sofa.