I swear next door’s cat can read.
After my little rant about horse shit, which was of course prompted by dog shit, the little bugger has started crapping in the small piece of land at the back that Mrs N and I grandiosely call ‘the orchard’.
Right in the middle of the mown path. Where an unsuspecting walker, admiring the five fledgling fruit trees, could easily step. Shit!
What is it with cats? They mark out their territory with urine and then crap anywhere but their own backyard. How would the little bastards like it if I went and crapped in their back yard?
Come to think of it, what would Chris next door think?
Could take some explaining…
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