WE nearly owned a cat once. He caused something of a neighbourhood dispute, too. My other half advised keeping our heads down because of it, but I really couldn’t do that when pegging out the washing.

DINNER time, Duncan!” I call, setting down a dish of the expensive cat food the vet recommended on the kitchen floor. Duncan trots in, sniffs it suspiciously, gives me one of his disdainful stares and

MAXINE Clover wondered if she’d done the right thing as the small ginger demon flew round the room. Sheer velocity took it up the walls and claws took it up the curtains. “For me?” ten-year-old Annie

PICTURES: JOHN GRINDLE & DAVID BURTON THE WALK ...

Our lives, your lives... that’s life!

A s I write this, just a week before Christmas, it’s a wonderfully frantic time in the office as we sign off magazines and race to meet deadlines, all in the hope of enjoying a well-deserved rest over