By Ian Forder

It all began innocently enough. A lady friend told me a tale of woe; naturally I related the story to my wife. Her eyes turned misty and filled with tears and I, my resistance melted away. Another female presence was about to make itself felt. Soon enough I could be seen on my knees, payinq homage to the Newcomer. I could be found in the early hours of the morning, cavorting around in a suit only a naturist could approve of. I allowed myself to be scratched and bitten, all apparently in the cause of love.

‘Enough! ‘ you cry. And rightly so. I do need help’

Why did I allow myself to be taken in? It was a tale of a poor little lost soul who had been rejected by her step-parents who preferred to beat her rather than their unruly and objectionable offspring, claiming she was vicious and uncontrollable She was cast out and given shelter in Galleywood by some kind souls. Another family thought to give her a home, but quickly rejected her; their children were apparently allergic to her, if you can believe that. Two more months passed, and she had, I was told, become withdrawn, wasting away from constant rejection.

After such a harrowing tale I was lost, and my wife collected the young lady a few days later. She seemed overjoyed to be given a new start in life, and indeed on that first night in my home she ran to the door to greet me a I returned from work, lavishing attention on me throughout the evening. She was a model guest until it was time to retire. As I lay there, drifting off, I was sure I could hear plaintive cries and before long there she was, sharing our bed. In the early hours she became rather affectionate, and I am sorry to relate I could not resist her advances. Things have gone from bad to worse, and I can be seen at odd times wrestling on the floor at the most antisocial hours. I am lost; she is irresistible ..

Really this is a moral piece, and contains a warning - to beware of soft-speaking sirens spinning cunning yarns. The seductress in this cautionary tale is a tortoiseshell named, appropriately enough, "Whisper" She creeps up on you silently when you least expect her, and insists on either lavishing love and attention or on being played with.

I must confess that, while I am not by nature a vindictive soul, I cannot help but wonder what sort of parent can ignore love of any kind and reject an innocent, rather than instil the same qualities of affection and caring in their own offspring Animals are only dumb in that they cannot articulate in a language we can understand, but they are streets ahead of the human race when it comes to love, honour and fidelity.

Almost all names are withheld to Protect the innocent, and the nearly demented.