Tim Dowling: the cat needs food. But whose turn is it to go?

It’s 5.30, I say. Cat food happens at 6

It is late afternoon and I have carried the folding deckchair over to a small square of sunlight at the edge of the grass. The last warmth of the day is concentrated in this corner, and I intend to absorb it. I am settling into the chair with a book when the cat appears at the open back door, trying to catch my eye. I pretend not to notice.

The cat steps into the garden, crosses the lawn and sits down at my feet. I do not look up from my book.

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from The Guardian https://ift.tt/3u5vxT7