Cats really do have nine lives, don't they? Last year Angus got locked in our shed for the best part of a weekend. He'd got shut in hiding from the rain on the Friday night and then I'd gone away for the weekend leaving my poor lodger frantically trying to track down a missing cat when he didn't turn up for breakfast, dinner or breakfast again. He only heard a faint miaowing from the shed on Sunday morning, by which time Angie was covered in soot and somewhat p*ssed off, to say the least. Poor P was sobbing with relief when he found him!

Luckily Angus is a big fat b*gger so suffered no ill effects from his incarceration. Which is a good thing really, being that we worked out that it had been me that had locked the shed door... **sheepish look**