I've been noticing this week that I appear not to be the sole occupier of my property any more.

Last weekend I heard loud meowling noises around the time I was going to bed, close enough to make me wonder if they were coming from my own garden rather than a neighbour's. And, sure enough, every time I've gone out of the back door this week to put something in the wheely-bin, a black cat with white feet has been in my back garden. This morning I saw it out of the back window, walking along the fence right next to me and looking at me coolly.

It hasn't let me come near it; every time I get within the same half of the garden, it looks startled and hops it over the fence.

I'm getting the impression that it (no idea whether it's a he or a she) has claimed my garden as part of its territory, there being no resident quadruped to challenge the claim. (The previous owners of this house had a big dog, but that was in 2007; now I think about it, it faintly surprises me that the local feline community has taken this long to notice the dog's absence and reallocate the space. Perhaps it just takes a long time for the City Kitty Committee to organise a meeting.)

I don't think I actually object to it; there's nothing in my garden I particularly value except the sheds, which I reckon are safe enough. If it wants to damage any of the plants, it's most welcome to: 90% of them are weeds, even after I've weeded.

But if it's going to be there, I feel as if I'd like to know its name, and at least be able to say hi to it in passing without it going ‘warrgh, scary biped’ and levitating out of range.