Here, hair, here

I was up at my parents the weekend before last. Sitting on the sofa in the morning, going through the papers with them I became aware that my mum, sat at my side, was studying my head. "Have you had your hair cut?", she asked. I nodded. "Hmm...it's not as good as usual" was her verdict. I had to smile.

Macavity's not there

My mum and dad's cat died recently. He was 14 years old. Not a bad innings, the oldest cat they've ever had. They were understandably upset and have vowed never to get another. But now...a mouse has appeared. A cunning mouse - wise to humane traps, indifferent to even the largest lumps of cheese. It treats the kitchen as though it were his own and has even begun to encroach on the living room. My mum and dad, both into their seventies, are just no match for its agility. I suggested they borrow a neighbour's cat but they don't think that will really work.

The old cat was in pretty bad shape, his prescription for essentially the same drugs my mum is on cost more than my mum's. How can that be right? They've got you over a barrel when it comes to pets.