When I arrived, I wandered through to the kitchen and stood on his back step to see what life there is in an urban back garden.
I watched a grey squirrel perched on the garden fence, teasing the cats. Watchfully ignoring them, in respectful contempt. If a small mammal could strut sitting down, that's what this one was doing.
Ben tells me that Bert, the black cat, once cornered this squirrel. The cat looked at the squirrel, the squirrel looked at the cat. And the cat couldn't work out what it was supposed to do next. "My cats are wusses", he said.
