MUM: That bloody cat came in again this morning.
ME: Did he?
MOTHER: Cheeky little sod! He just waltzes in without a care in the world.
ME: Does he?
MOTHER: He’s thick, I tell you. I scream, I chuck water on him but he still keeps coming back.
ME: (reading the paper now) Hmmm.
MOTHER: He’s feral, that’s what he is. Feral. Have you seen the tail on him?
ME: He’s not feral. He just needs some love.
MOTHER: I’ll give him some bloody love before long.
ME: (back to the paper) I still think you should report the neighbour to the RSPCA. (At this point, you should know that the cat lives next door with no cat flap, left outside in all weathers and rarely fed)
MOTHER: No point. They won’t do anything.
ME: Then nothing will change.
MOTHER: No and my life will carry on being a bloody misery.
I don’t know who I feel sorrier for. My mother, the cat or me.