Festus returns

Festus came home last night - to general jubilation from my family. Not from me though. I can't see what they see in the puffed-up fur-ball. I mean what is it with all the hissing and spitting? Get a life Festus! Funny thing is he doesn't seem to do it to his family. They get the full-on winding round the legs 'look at me, look at me' treatment. Then they melt and pick him up and fuss him and he starts that under-the-breath growling thing that cats are sooo good at. It's all an act. Nick picked him up this morning and Festus gave me the sort of smirk that badly needs wiping off his sly little face.

'Oh Festus, it's so good to see you, where have you been all this time?'

Festus purred and rubbed his face against Nick's cheek.

'It looks like he's been getting plenty to eat,' said Clive.

'I know where he's been,' piped up Ben.

Everyone gaped at Ben.

'Where?'

'At the Garners.'

'How do you know?'

'I saw him there last week when I went to play with Dominic.'

'Why didn't you tell us Ben? You know we've been looking for him everywhere.'

'I forgot.'

Ginny sighed. She does that a lot with Ben. Ben has a habit of forgetting things. Usually it's homework, or his school lunch box, or PE kit, or telling Ginny that he needs money for a school trip.

'They must have been feeding him, look at the size of him.'

'Yes, he's got his own bowl of food and a bed at the Garner's, and they don't have a dog so he's happy,' said Ben.

'How dare they assume our cat's not happy,' Ginny fumed. 'Why do people feel they can just take other people's cats in? Festus will be quite happy once he's got used to Arrow. He's not going to get used to him if he can turn up on the Garner's doorstep and be treated like the prodigal son.' Ginny was angry.

Clive huffed and buried his nose in the paper. 'Being pounced on every time he comes through the cat-flap doesn't help him settle.'

'Festus can stand up for himself. Arrow's just being playful.'

Yeah, I am! I haven't seen another dog for weeks. It's getting a bit boring. Cats are no substitute for puppies but they're good sport. Since Festus came home he's not been allowed out again and he's getting tetchy. He's taken to creeping around the door of each room he enters, looking to left and right, like a secret agent on a mission. Then he tiptoes in as quietly as he can. That's when I pounce. This morning he leapt a good two feet - amazing - and then scarpered across the wooden floor in the hall leaving a trail of scratch marks. Unfortunately I was the one caught running through the hall. And I'm the one that's been blamed for scratching the precious floor. And I'm the one that's been banished to the back porch while Ginny tries to wax out the scratches. Festus had taken refuge on the windowsill of the living room. I now know what the term 'butter wouldn't melt in his mouth' means. Festus's smirk is never far from his lips - he thinks he's got the upper hand, and I'll admit he has. For now.