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all evening.” “Where … may I ask?” “Oh, at the Women’s Institute. He came in shortly after we started and stayed till the end.” “Really?
    What exactly was your programme, Miss Simpson?” “Well, there was a bit of committee stuff, then a short talk with lantern slides by Mr.
    Walters from the water company and we finished with a cake-making competition.” “Yes … yes … and what did Oscar do?” She laughed.
    “Mixed with the company, apparently enjoyed the slides and showed great interest in the cakes.” “I see. And you didn’t bring him home?” “No, he made his own way here. As you know, I have to pass your house and I merely rang your bell to make sure you knew he had arrived.” “I’m obliged to you, Miss Simpson. We were a little worried.” I mounted the stairs in record time. Helen was sitting with the cat on her knee and she looked up as I burst in. “I know about Oscar now,” I said. “Know what?” “Why he goes on these nightly outings. He’s not running away—he’s visiting.” “Visiting?” “Yes,” I said. “Don’t you see? He likes getting around, he loves people, especially in groups, and he’s interested in what they do. He’s a natural mixer.” Helen looked down at the attractive mound of fur curled on her lap. “Of course … that’s it … he’s a socialite!”
    “Exactly, a high stepper!” “A cat-about-town!” It all afforded us some innocent laughter and Oscar sat up and looked at us with evident pleasure, adding his own throbbing purr to the merriment. But for Helen and me there was a lot of relief behind it; ever since our cat had started his excursions there had been the gnawing fear that we would lose him, and now we felt secure. From that night our delight in him increased. There was endless joy in watching this facet of his character unfolding. He did the social round meticulously, taking in most of the activities of the town. He became a familiar figure at whist drives, jumble sales, school concerts and scout bazaars. Most of the time he was made welcome, but he was twice ejected from meetings of the Rural District Council—they did not seem to relish the idea of a cat sitting in on their deliberations.
    At first I was apprehensive about his making his way through the streets but I watched him once or twice and saw that he looked both ways before tripping daintily across. Clearly, he had excellent traffic sense and this made me feel that his original injury had not been caused by a car. Taking it all in all, Helen and I felt that it was a kind of stroke of fortune which had brought Oscar to us. He was a warm and cherished part of our home life. He added to our happiness.
     
    When the blow fell it was totally unexpected. I was finishing the morning surgery. I looked round the door and saw only a man and two little boys. “Next, please,” I said. The man stood up. He had no animal with him. He was middle-aged, with the rough, weathered face of a farm worker. He twirled a cloth cap nervously in his hands. “Mr.
    Herriot?” he said. “Yes, what can I do for you?” He swallowed and looked me straight in the eyes. “Ah think you’ve got ma cat.”
    “What?” “Ah lost ma cat a bit since.” He cleared his throat. “We used to live at Missdon but ah got a job as ploughman to Mr. Horne of Wederly. It was after we moved to Wederly that t”cat went missing.
    Ah reckon he was trying to find “is way back to his old home.”
    “Wederly? That’s on the other side of Brawton—over thirty miles away.” “Aye, ah knaw, but cats is funny things.” “But what makes you think I’ve got him?” He twisted the cap around a bit more. “There’s a cousin o” mine lives in Darrowby and ah heard tell from “im about this cat that goes around to meetin’s. I “ad to come. We’ve been hunting everywhere.” “Tell me,” I said, ‘this cat you lost. What did he look like?” “Grey and black and sort o” gingery. Right bonny “e