F is for Frank (or fat cat)
I remember when I walked into my house on the evening of the 30th of March, I saw my fat cat sitting in the hall way awaiting my arrival back from uni...and then he ran away because he's scared of loud noises and footsteps. I always forget how fat Frank is when I go away. He's not obese, and it's a bit of a joke how fat he is only because having a fat cat is very unusual for this family!
We've had loads of animals and many of them cats, and they've all been quite thin and lean - Frank once was too. It was when we moved to Porthleven that Frank really let himself go, we used to live 'in the middle of no where' so there was so many places for him to go exploring and hunting, but here in this old fishing village, he won't go further than our little courtyard out the back. So on piled the pounds for poor old Frank. It took him a few months to even take a step outside, scaredy cat.
He also went through a phase of marking his territory - by peeing on things. I imagine this is something he used to do outside when we lived in the old house, but with his fear of the outside in Porthleven he decided to carry this out in the house...by peeing on the beds, on the floor and on one unforgettable occasion, on me. I wasn't quite that flattered to be dubbed as his territory.
But that's our fat cat Frank.