The Car-man lives on the edges of a little village, and near that village there used to be a quarry, with lots of precious blue limestone, the sort that was used for cement in days gone by. The trade in blue limestone is all over now, not economical, and maybe that’s what Snatcher couldn’t stomach. He wants to be where it’s happening. He’s that sort of cat. When we went to see the Car-man today, Snatcher wasn’t there and no one knows where he went. Down in the rocky layers there are bones of dinosaurs and the remains of fragile ferns impressed in stone, for eternity so to speak. Above the rocks, there are badger sets; stags roam the woods that grow where the quarry used to be. That’s where Snatcher lived. But he’s moved on. We don’t know where to. The place was too tranquil for a cat like him, too peaceful, far too old. He always said he’d to move to London, or to one of the other big cities. He didn’t care about the invisible creatures that live in stone. He had to move on. It’s different for Alleycat and Pink and Bamber and they know it. But Alleycat still lords it over the Six Foot, and though some folk think he’s old and past it, you can see from this photo that he patently isn’t. Pink still likes to have her photo taken on Saturday morning, even without Snatcher. Snatcher wasn’t photogenic so all we have are old snaps of him like the one at the bottom of this post; we’ll never see him again likely as not, though we might well hear of him, when he goes to London and gets what he always wanted.