I fixed the cat flap this afternoon. It had been ripped off last night, torn from its hinges as easily as a damp slice of bread. I have no idea how this happened, what kind of creature did this. All I know is that my cat manfully fought off the intruder, and somehow emerged unscathed. At least physically: who knows what deep trauma she has suffered psychologically but does not possess the words to express. At least she is not off her food; so it can't have been that big a trauma.
On an unrelated note, the passing of David Bowie this week brought back memories of when I was an impressionable youth in the early seventies, with an older sister who bought the albums when they first came out. Space Oddity made a big impression on me. I think at that age I particularly appreciated songs about astronauts.
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