On Friday, I sat down after dinner to relax with a cup of tea and some music. That’s when I noticed something strange in the corner bookcase.
One of the volumes stored there had been pulled out. It was from my collection of 1920s and ‘30s travel-books.
I don’t mind my cats reading about Czechoslovakia a hundred years ago, or about any country at any time. Any subject is, in fact, open to them. My books are their books.
I just wish they would put them back when they were finished reading them.