It's absolutely pouring with torrential rain, and at our back door sits the strange little cat I call Binky. And on our front doorstep sits Sam the Skull. Both are soaking wet to the skin, and I've given each of them a nice dish of best Purina cat food. Why are they still sitting there like two feline martyrs?
SmokeyPokey is still with us, albeit rather deaf and a bit senile.