Rosie

Mum's cat.
Beautiful crisp, bright, frosty morning. Weather deteriorated as I was driving to Oxford. Fog over the Chilterns. Drove home through a haze of spray, guided by cat's eyes and tail-lights. Cocooned in the car with Bruce on the CD.
This time next week Mum and Rosie will be sitting in the same chair, with the same blanket but in London, not Oxford. Mum decided she'd better move before she was too old to start a new life. She's 88...