Tilde and myself were all tucked up in bed in the kitchen, as usual. Sidney was banged up in the conservatory, where mum puts him at night, otherwise he gets into fights. And Ginger was out, because Ginger refuses to stay in, unless it is pouring with rain. Mum had gone to bed with the dog. Then around midnight there was an almighty yowl and screeching, right by kitchen window, as if a major catfight had broken out. The dog went beserk barking, and all the neighbours looked out of their windows. Mum got up and had a look, to make sure Ginger was not in trouble. The street was teaming with foxes, running here there and everywhere. Most likely scavenging in the trash bags, as today is collection day, and people put ther rubbish bags out. There were no cats to be seen and no sign of Ginger. So we went to bed again, trying to ignore the foxes and barking dogs everywhere. Mum was worried about Ginger, but he turned up in the morning with a smile on his face, all sweetness and light, as if he never got into any scrapes and squabbles. Innocence personified. And he is certainly not telling what went down at night!