As soon as I switch the sprinkler on in my herb garden this evening a little black shadow comes scurrying. Horry runs into the gentle mist of water, positions herself to her liking in the stream of droplets and starts to wash attentively.
She spends about ten minutes thoroughly licking her fur from every angle and seems to actively enjoy getting soaked to the skin.
Horry, or rather Horror, as she usually gets called, is old now, fifteen, one of our original two cats that preceded the children in our family. Cats of character. She has outlived the vet's predictions by more than three years, although she walks and runs with a swashbuckling wobble.
Here's the cat 'Horror's story Part 1 and Part 2.
So there!
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