Flying Tiger

 
I am thinking of renaming Leo, the latest recruit to our home, the Flying Tiger.
 
He jumped off our balcony, a height of some 16 feet ( 5 metres) this morning, frightened by the noise of the hoover after I had accidentally left the door open. Fortunately he is not injured.
 
Leo has a back-story. He belonged to a friend’s daughter, who acquired two dogs so he moved out and has been living for more than a year semi wild, sleeping in plant pots and fed by neighbours. But nobody would take him because they thought him too old. He is 9 years of age. Even Cat Rescue refused because they have a waiting list.
 
I heard about him a couple of months ago after our beloved Teddy (see extra photo ) was killed on the road. I was, and still am, devastated. Teddy was only three years of age.
 
This friend suggested I might be interested in Leo. At first I resisted, grief was too raw. One day she showed me a photo on her phone. He looked so like Teddy that in the end I said yes.
 
He arrived last Saturday and has yet to be allowed out.
Except he took a flying leap this morning off the balcony and I found him wandering around the lower garden