There’s a gentlemen’s club in the Six Foot. Pink and the dogs aren’t invited, and they know it’s not for them. Bamber and Alleycat sit facing each other on the garden chairs, like old men in Boodle’s or Brook’s, and if they’re asleep it means they’ve just had lunch, or brunch or dinner or any one of the many little meals that they like to indulge in, and if they’re awake it means they’re discussing the issues of the day, such as the supply and demand (and therefore the price) of catnip and the politics of the local cat families. The black and white cats have increased their numbers to an exceptional level in recent weeks, and no one quite knows why. Immigration is a possibility, but Alleycat and Bamber are perfectly relaxed about that and they never get worked up about much at all. The dogs are detailed to fetch and carry for them, and Pink’s expected to come and talk to them when she’s wanted, which isn’t very often. If there’s a crisis or an emergency (which there hardly ever is) Bamber ambles over and tells the cocker spaniels how to deal with it. That’s their function. Bamber’s function is to sleep as much as possible and spring out of bed at the crack of elevenses.