Animals of October

We are decamped at a friend's house to look after her cats while she's away. This is an annual occurrence. There is a dog in this mix who is uncontrollable when it comes to firework season, so our friends take her away somewhere remote in the hope of avoiding the bangs and booms. Mostyn is one of two cats at this abode and just look at him: as regal and as glorious as they come. He's a friendly fella with a wild streak and a show-off attitude. He is quite used to Hannah and I as his occasional carers because we are a key node in a network of pals who feed each other's pets at times of holidaying. Arrangements are made, keys are exchanged, bags of treats are left on kitchen counters alongside complex instructions about medicines that need to be administered or specific foods for specific creatures. Curiously, at times, it feels like we see more of each other's animals than we do of each other.   All of this is currently allowed according to COVID rules, but will not ...

It feels like we’re on the cusp of another lock-down, and like many sequels to must-see originals, it feels rushed, unstructured and full of tired and under-developed characters. Autumn is pulling us slowing into it with its usual blend of beauty and doom, and winter has never been so collectively forbidding. And while there is much tragedy and griping to come, not least towards the incompetents who supposedly lead us, I still have belief in our collectivity and our community fortitude. We’re good at winters, we handle them every year of our lives, and we’ll find excellent ways to adapt. We may even discover surprising new methods to do ancient rituals: let us brace ourselves now for an unusual yuletide and use it to try on some different costumes. Yesterday, I managed to snatch some quality time in the actual physical presence of a dear friend and we took to the rural edges of the suburbs to while away the afternoon in catch-up chat and giggles. The long stroll took us from Didsbury (...