… because although she appears to be just another cat, she’s really a devil in disguise. Don’t be fooled by her pretty face - she’s been terrorising my neighbours.

Alright, she’s not that bad. And some of my other cats have pulled worse stunts - like the time George jumped in the window of No. 36’s downstairs loo, twice, while one of my neighbours was actually sat on it;  or the time Bailey nicked the bacon off the kitchen counter of one of the houses down the road…

But Friday night, half-way through the first half of the France v Wales rugby match, when my nerves were shot to pieces anyway, the woman from No. 34 knocked at my door. I was a bit surprised to see her jump in shock when two of my cats leapt off the bonnet of my car, but when she started with “One of your cats…” my heart sank.

Thankfully, no, it wasn’t that one of them had gone under a car. No, Clover had gone into the car of next-door’s daughter-in-law, and she was scared stiff. The daughter-in-law, not Clover. She’s utterly fearless.

Anyway, I went and opened the car door and Clover ran straight out - apparently the back window had been left open, so I’m guessing she just jumped in and went to sleep on the backseat. There is a very good reason why I don’t ever leave car doors open when the cats are marauding down the driveway…

No harm done, anyway. I hope. At least she didn’t get driven off and dumped.

However, I think Clover has been doing some harm to the local dogs: short-term physical harm, and long-term psychological damage. They’re all scared of her, since most of them have had a whack on the nose at some point, and she’ll happily chase them out of our garden. Next-door’s lab, a big soft friendly eedjit, was happily playing on the lawn with a football yesterday until she went out and stared at him. He then sat down with the ball between his paws and didn’t move again until she stalked off.

Poor sods.

She also sneaked back in the house last night after Colin put her out (he had to get something out of the car a bit later), and I found her dozing in her bed (one of those doughnuts, which fits in an armchair) at 11:30 this morning when I got up, not a bit repentant.

But then why should she be? She’s a cat, and she cares only for her own comfort and amusement… mostly.

I love her anyway.