A few Christmases ago, I got a wonderful present from my wife – a milk bowl, a food bowl, some catnip and a scratching post. Our cat, Guido the Killer Pimp, had gone to the happy hunting grounds that year and Marie decided that I needed and deserved the ultimate puddy tat present, which for me meant a chocolate brown, orange-eyed, pedigree Burmese. Given that my darling wife isn’t by any stretch of the imagination a cat lover, this truly was a selfless and wonderful present.

So you can imagine my delight when, a couple of weeks later, we uncovered the root cause of my older daughter’s asthma and it transpired that she is violently allergic to dust mite and … cats.

To her credit, daughter number one has promised me that she will give me a brown burmese as a present on the day she gets married – and my younger daughter helpfully chimed in by suggesting we can call it “Terry.” There is but one small problem – my older daughter turns 11 on her next birthday …

In the meantime, I have to enjoy other people’s cats. Like Simon’s – now this guy really gets our feline friends:

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H/T Gavin.