You can see her every evening, slinky butt-wiggler, dressed in this season’s fashionable mackerel stripes (her favourite fish, if fresh & raw), each white-tipped paw placed just so, tail curled at jaunty angles, swish-stepping out on her own private catwalk, wall between her garden world & his. Will he take her bait today, midnight Tom, lover & enemy, caterwauler & crooner? Will he come close, twine bodies in hot lust, or will she hiss, scratch, scar—a fickle, feline siren? VSS-Catwalk