Walking With The Gingers

Earlier this week, I was in St Davids, on the Welsh coast, with the artist Jackie Morris, who writes We Three Cats, which is paws down the most visually stunning mogblog on the Interwebs. Jackie doesn't actually have three cats; she has six, like me, and early on Wednesday morning, the more intrepid individuals amongst them, Jackie, a very nice photographer from the FT called David Barnes, Jackie's three dogs and I strolled up the hill from her brilliantly ramshackle storybook artist's cottage, passing standing stones and curious cows, to the huge lichen-covered rocks overlooking the sea. I won't say too much about it here, as Jackie has already posted about our day, and I'll be writing about it in more detail in my capacity as occasional walking correspondent for the FT, but it was an experience every bit as magical as I'd hoped, and a lesson in the often misunderstood sociability of cats. I wouldn't like to pick a favourite of Jackie's cats, as they each have their own strong, winning personalities, but I did particularly enjoy meeting Kiffer, her most recent rescue, who likes to kiss cows, play exaggerated games of hide and seek with humans, and - owing to a kittenhood ear infection - walks and stalks with his head tilted to one side.