McGrath, someone may have told him a scary story about...catgut strings! Or, more mundanely, he may have tried plucking strings at his former abode and been severely chastised for the effort. Some people are very possessive about their instruments.

Kat, I do love the kitties. I've had six over 35 years (three at a time for many years) and every one had a distinct personality. One big tuxedo named Bluepetal (don't ask) was a cat genius, I believe, but it did him no good in the human world - we're too unpredictable. Once, unpacking boxes after a move, someone threw an empty box down the hall just as the cat rounded the corner. He knew the box was about to be thrown, calculated its trajectory perfectly, moved to avoid - but the human hesitated, and the box landed, of course, right on top of the cat.

He was the most laid back and gentle cat, never managed to kill anything, brought a racoon home as a friend once, was absolutely appalled by the behaviour of the other two cats: would sit back and look outraged while they shredded the toilet paper or - horrors! - ate mice.