We went back to Scunthorpe last night, with a plan to search for Jimmy all night. Rach had prepared some leaflets, we'd reported him lost to the local cat protection league, and we'd read lots of advice on the web, so we were all set.
Anyway, we pulled up outside the house, and I called his name on the off chance. Meow. Called again. Meow meow. And out of the garden came a thin and bedraggled Jimmy. All he needed was to hear a friendly voice... broke my heart...
Then we locked him up in the utility room for the night with Maggie and Lumpy Ermintrude.
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