Watson and Isobel have decided that humans gotta do what humans gotta do. When things get too strange and weird, they sack out on my pillow. And when the rugs come back from the cleaners, they have major work to do — all that woolly acreage to re-anoint with catness. In fact, even as I type, Watson is doing victory rolls on the big red Turkmen rug in the parlour. In a couple of weeks, he will have ground in almost enough grey fluff.