Watson, our tomcat, likes to jump onto my shoulder and ride around for a while. When he wants to perform this stunt, he follows me around meowing loudly until I am correctly positioned beside the kitchen counter, the dining table, the stairs or a chest of drawers. Then he reaches up to grab my shoulder with his front paws, steps onto my forearm with his hind paws, and settles himself in the curve of my elbow with one arm around the back of my neck. His objective is to purr loudly while rubbing his face on the side of my head, periodically shoving his snout into my ear.

When Watson was younger and slimmer, he would launch from the floor like a rocket-propelled grenade, grab the front of my shirt with his front claws, and then haul himself up to shoulder level with the aid of his scrabbling hind claws. This manoeuvre, known as "climbing the north face of Mount Charmion", has left an indelible mark on my wardrobe.