If you want an easy life then never get a Bengal Cat. Apart from being probably the most skittish, demanding and bloody-minded creatures God created, they also worm their way into the affections of their owners.

They also are the noisiest, nosiest and nasty minded little sods, especially when they go missing. Yes, dear reader, that is why, for a dozen of so hours yesterday, my life was put on hold by Da Boss.

And indeed that is why the world stock of fine brandy was reduced quite rapidly as Da boss mourned the death, destruction, kidnapping or other terrible fate that had befallen India (our Bengal cat, not the Nation).

It meant endless forays up and down the garden; into the garage; round to neighbours and then a grim trek right round the entire neighbourhood as we hunted for signs of a grisly accident. All to no avail.

By ten o’clock the doom and gloom was too much to bear and so I left Da boss downstairs, sitting and hoping for a miracle. And of course I was not dozing over a book when suddenly there were the pair of them standing in front of me. Da Boos and Indy both were silently accusing me of not caring a damn and being more interested in snoring than mourning for a tragic loss.

“You didn’t hear the door then?”

I shook my head.

“It was Neil from next door, he came round to say that he thought she was under their bed!”

I nodded weakly.

“I had to go round in my dressing gown and as soon as I called her she came out!”

“She must have climbed in through an upstairs window and fallen asleep, poor thing!”

I said nothing, merely remarked quietly to myself that the past few hours of doom, gloom and destruction were typical of a bloody cat! And what was worse the cause of all this suffering had been happily snoring in someone else’s bedroom!

“Well the great news is that she is back safe and sound,” I began cheerily.

“Oh you!” Came the response. With that the pair disappeared downstairs to open some luxury titbit of salmon or fatted calf, or whatever it is that such celebrations merit.

When I followed down I was greeted with a look of complete disdain by the cat and her owner. One clearly didn’t give a damn and the other had just had it reinforced about how callous and uncaring a person I was.

I suddenly realised that the doghouse beckoned yet again. I was just about to make a witty remark about there being an even worse place than a doghouse to be sent. But fortunately I suddenly realised that any comments about being sent to a cathouse would definitely bring about a much nastier ending when the penny dropped.

I went back upstairs, thankful that for once silence had indeed been a virtue!