A little while ago I read someone who commented on her cat’s ‘post-litter tray euphoria’, and before George I wouldn’t have known what she meant. Frankie, of course, eschewed the litter tray, and always went out, but our previous cats were all litter-tray users, and used them much as we use our own facilities.

But George – he does the full cartoon cat bit, skittering along the kitchen floor, cornering on two legs, racing through the living room from one end to the other and back again, running through the conservatory and back into the kitchen, uttering strange teddy-bear noises the while. Why relieving himself should produce such a reaction I don’t know, but I’m pretty glad people don’t go in for it.

He is a little less destructive to the carpets and wallpaper these days – indeed, the wallpaper now seems entirely safe in his hands, but the carpets still come in for a bit of vandalism if he is confronted with a closed door, which he absolutely hates. When I sleep at night, which I am doing more and more as I try to return to a normal existence after twenty years of working nightshift, I like to have an entirely dark room and a closed door. Tough. George doesn’t. We have to leave the downstairs door open or we’d have no carpet left, and this means that we have to leave the light at the bottom of the stairs on in order for anyone rising in the night to see George rather than trip over him and go headlong down the stair.

And therefore I have to leave my bedroom door open, because George wants to join me, and he would tunnel his way through eventually. I tried ignoring him – it really didn’t work. Besides which, I like having him sleeping on my bed. But once he’s in I still can’t close the door because he can’t sleep if he knows the door is closed, and he immediately tries to tunnel his way out.

So now I sleep in a room with the door open and a light, albeit dim, from outside getting in, and a very smug cat stretched out at my feet. A pushover? Moi?

Anyway, I hope you like this batch of photographs. I’ve included the close-up I promised you last time, and which somehow got missed out, and a few others I liked – for instance, the one of his tail growing big as he heard two cats having either an altercation or an amorous encounter. Whichever it was, George didn’t approve! And his radiator game, which he was playing, unusually, in the living room – it’s the bottom of the stairs normally.

And, of course, the historic meeting, when Georgia very nearly got her hands on him, but he neatly jumped over her as she made her move. (He can jump up and he can jump over – he just can’t jump down – he sort of walks off chairs and sofas, and he won’t get up on anything he regards as too difficult to descend. He’s blind in one eye, though you’d never know it, and we think he can’t gauge the drop.) He’s got a lot more laid-back about Georgia now – he even chooses to sit close to her, and watch her curiously. He’s still a little bit puzzled about what she’s for, but I think he’s beginning to like her.

I’m sure I’ll have some Christmas photographs for you of both Georgia and George – until then, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from all of us to all of you.