Exit

As Mr Flum had the front door open to take out the bin, in walked N, the cat-next-door, without so much as a by-your-leave.

He investigated the hall then decided to go upstairs for a nosey round but apparently couldn't push the bathroom door open, nor the bedroom. He thought the boxes on the landing (awaiting removal to the attic) most interesting, probably the rustling of the Nativity characters settling down in their shredded newspaper for their long summer sleep that had attracted his attention).

Then he came down and made a thorough check of the dining room, behind the curtains in case the patio door was open, a little put-out that it was firmly closed against the night, so he wandered through the kitchen and into the utility room. 

Now, that had so many  different things to sniff, from the contents of the washing bin to bird feeders and preserves, that it took quite some time before he even considered using the cat flap. However, after a jolly good look into the darkness, checking for passing cats, foxes, badgers or whatever, he slowly pushed himself through and away without so much as a 'farewell, and thanks for having me'.

Ok, N, see you around.