It’s gone a bit crazy here in the last few days, because Pink’s been going further and further afield, and we’ve told her to be careful but she won’t listen. There are too many hostile cats in the Five Streets and it isn’t safe for her to be out of doors, where One-eyed Jack and Butcher the Burmese can get her. I can’t say I was surprised when I got up this morning and discovered Alleycat waiting in the kitchen and Pink nowhere to be found. Alleycat jumped on the table. She’s gone walk-about and we can’t find her! he whispered in my ear in cat-speak. The story was that she’d slipped away in the small hours, and she’d made sure she’d been seen. Bamber had been at the top of his fir tree in the crow’s-nest, too far away to stop her, and Alleycat had been on the other side of the house and hadn’t noticed a thing. We all agreed that the best thing was to get up a search party, so I ran into Bugle Street, calling Pink’s name, while the boy-cats started a systematic search of the neighbours’ gardens and potting sheds. So far she hasn’t shown up, and I’d be really worried except that she’s done exactly this sort of thing before, just to scare us.