Spot the cat

I worked at home today - well, worked, sneezed, worked, slept, worked, felt crap, worked - you get the point - and to brighten up my semi-torpor I sent TSM a series of four "spot the cat" pictures. The fact that the fourth and final entry in the series was sent at nine o'clock in the evening  when she was sitting opposite me on the settee and consisted of - well - a cat is neither here nor there. The other three did require a degree of "Where's Wally?" style application. 

This is the second in the series and mainly serves to illustrate how sad and neglected the garden is after a winter. It is actually surprising that any self respecting moggy would camp out in it, but Dylan is the wild city fringes hunter type for whom a rusty barbecue and an abandoned ladder merely serve as a starting point for urban camouflage. Yes that's him in the foreground, having disguised himself as an old bird table. 

Okay I'm lying. He's on the garage roof. But you'd already worked that out for yourself ...