Just got the fur coats back from the vets. Letting them out of the basket was a damn sight easier than getting them in.

I picked the easiest of the black fur coats first and got bitten and scratched. I went for the more stand-offish one next with a thick towel and managed to corner him in the front bedroom but he scratched me up good and bit my finger.

I had to chase the grey and white fur coat around the spare bedroom for six circuits before I out-foxed her and got her wrapped up and then she did the kitten wail of despair. When I opened the door, her mum tried to trip me up three times.

I opened the cat basket, she went in and the second black fur coat slipped out. I eventually caught him again climbing behind the sink in the sink unit.

The little bastards were far more cooperative with the vet and the nurse, I'm sure there was a glint of triumph in their eyes. The two black fur coats are male and the snowy one is female as we thought.

I fear that I've blown the rapport that I was working on. I'm off to clean my wounds and wash the blood off. Toodle pip!