Cats are peculiar creatures.

They find themselves a favourite spot and return to it again and again. Silver (pictured) spent some months squeezed into the gap between the rug and the wall underneath the radiator, and she currently can’t be budged from the back cushion of the sofa (which is much saggier than it was before).

I’ve always been amused by the dogged (ha ha) persistance of their habits, followed by sudden and completely unpredictable switches to sleeping somewhere new.

Last week I went outside to eat a tub of ginger ice-cream.

It was a hot day. I moved one of the chairs from its usual spot in front of the house to the shade of the hedge. I enjoyed the new view – the sliver of road, the big trees, the quiet. I’ve been sitting there ever since.

Maybe it’s impossible to make assumptions about how logical/illogical or sensible/silly someone else’s decisions are until we’ve walked in their shoes for a while. Or their paws.