Unfortunately we have had a fairly high attrition rate of cats since we moved here in 2009. We've always had two so there has been a bit of a rotating shift.

Coco, my (notice I didn't say our - she was a one woman cat) Tonkinese, came to an unfortunate demise when one of our previous Dogues, Harley decided cat tasted good.

TC, our tabby, was found one day asleep in teenage daughter's room, dead. He'd obviously come in from a trip outside, curled up in the sun and passed away. We think it was a snake bite. Teenage daughter was obviously visibly distressed (but that's another story).

TC was supposed to be short for Tough C**t to teach Coco some manners, but he just wasn't and quickly (and thankfully) became Tabby Cat

Moet, a champagne coloured princess, came to us from and is currently curled up at my feet. She is a true princess and doesn't like to venture outside too much.

Moet loves Baillie but hates Roman. She will hunt him down and leap out and attack him, scaring the daylights out of the poor, simple Dogue.
Max (who came to us as Maxie and had to be renamed) is the latest edition and is a black Manx. He's still a kitten at the moment but is shaping up to be a very large, boisterous cat.

Roman loves Max

Max thinks the chooker moles are his and comes with me every morning and evening to let them in and out of their  pen

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