An early Christmas present

A big brown envelope was waiting for me when I returned home from work this afternoon. My first thought was that it was another rejection, but I couldn't think of anything I had submitted to be rejected. I opened it tentatively, preparing myself for the worst.

Inside the envelope was a copy of Your Cat magazine. Once a week the milkman has been leaving us a bottle of fruit juice that I haven't asked for; was the newsagent now sending me magazines I hadn't requested?

Then I remembered: some time ago Your Cat accepted an article cum story I'd written. And here it was published for all the world - or at least all the cat-lovers who bought the magazine - to see.

Under True Cat Tales, The Worst Christmas Surprise related what happened the year we looked after a friend's gerbil over the holiday season. At the time we had a cat called Toby. Copyright doesn't allow me to reprint the story in full but here's a little sample.

Christmas Day came and went.

After the excitement of the big, not to mention long, day, a lie-in on Boxing Day was very welcome. While we were loafing in bed we heard a crash but as the children were up and about we didn’t think much of it. That was before Robert came dashing in yelling, 'Toby’s got a mouse on the stairs.'

When he persisted in his claims, my husband got out of bed to investigate. I stayed where I was, still half asleep, wondering how a mouse could have got in the house. I had just decided that Toby must have brought him in from outside (a late Christmas offering perhaps) when Anna came rushing in. What she said made me leap out bed faster than was good for me.

'Toby’s eaten Cheeky!'

This proved to be only half true. He’d only eaten the top half.