Before anyone else says 'not cats again' I should hastily point out it's not all cats this week.
It's just that I thought I would like to share with you what could easily be called 'the neighbours strike back'.
Like most cat owners I know perfectly well that however much I discourage my two they will wander off and introduce themselves at other kitchen doors. And that quite likely they will appear on a regular basis with the expression 'They've not fed me a morsel all week and yes I would like a tiny slice or two of lightly sauteéd chicken liver if you please' on their faces.
Other cat owners know this ploy, people who don't own cats fall for it on a regular basis and occasionally remonstrate with said cat owners about their poor little starving pussies. The said pussy usually beats a hasty retreat if he or she is witness to this, lest their poor little starved ears get a sound telling off.
I didn't, however, realise that my two had not only introduced themselves next door but were causing quite a bit of havoc until Diane my neighbour wrote the following earlier this week.
"We are neighbours of Mary Richards and the antics of her two cats have not gone unnoticed by us, as we are the owners of two Jack Russells who are sisters, one affectionately known as Mitz or more often Fatso, the other called Jemma, otherwise 'the black and white job'.
"Mary's cats are most friendly and although we love them dearly do not encourage them in, fearing a meeting with the dogs. Even so Mary's 'ginger one' shows no fear when sitting with one paw in the pond waiting for Jaws the goldfish to come to the surface, while the 'black and white job' is curled up fast asleep on the newly upholstered armchair in the sun room.
"Now turning to the 'grey one'. On a sunny day a couple of weeks ago while sitting in the sun room reading there was the most terrible clatter and bumping, and fearing somebody had fallen, or worse that the roof had fallen in, I ran upstairs to find our black and white job going mad at something in the bath. To my horror it was Mary's grey cat who looked most surprised to see me. I tried to pick him up but he pinned himself to the furthest point of the corner bath, which is a long stretch when trying to pin an eel like silk coated Jack Russell in front of the bath. Eventually the cat jumped onto the basin and hurtled along the landing and jumped onto the window ledge followed by a blur of black and white only inches behind. The cat escaped through the open windows and sat there for a few moments thinking 'that was a close one - bang goes another life' before coming back to give me a dab of his claw, as if it was my fault.
"Still we have seen both cats around the garden. Fortunately our black and white job hasn't noticed the ginger one watching from the safety of the roof of the shed but I dread the day when cat gets fish, then dog gets cat."
Oh dear, and I thought they were such well brought up cats. Unlike Genghis Fluffy who once did something very nasty in a neighbour's pot plant.
I knew football mania was upon us on Sunday when two of our visitors, and you don't even have to guess which sex, were esconsed in my sitting room within ten minutes of arriving, accompanied by the male occupant of the house. For the next several hours, provided we kept them topped up with beer, tortilla chips and assorted dips, they were no trouble whatsoever.
It's early days yet, however, and I suspect that tolerance levels will drop as play days go on and most of us are reduced to barmaid/waitress status with firm instructions about not talking and definitely not walking in front of the tele in case they miss a tiny tiptoe by the goalie.
I'm fairly well versed in what not to do when a fan is watching footie on the box – so I can give you a few hints. And who am I to tell you not to take these on board and use them deliberately just because you are fed up with having to watch Corrie at midnight.
Firstly, the second worst thing to a football fan is having to watch the match on his own. The first is watching it with a non-fan. If you are that latter person you can annoy the fan by asking innocently, preferably ever ten minutes, what colour shirts England are wearing. Cheer on the opposition when they score. Ask at least six times to have the off-side rules explained again. Say you are supporting Outer Mongolia because you feel sorry for them. Admire the opposition goalie because he's handsome. Call any player who falls over injured a wimp and mention several times that Stanley Matthews never rolled around groaning even if he had broken both legs. Ditto any player who kisses another player.
Oh, and don't forget, if we lose you can always say 'Never mind, it's only a game'. But I advise you to be near the door when you say it. Those empty lager cans can smart a bit when they come in contact with your left ear.