Is it April already? Where has this year gone?

You can be forgiven for losing track of time as we all try to come to terms with our new housebound measures and the same four walls every day.

After careful deliberation and a hard-thought discussion with myself, I have decided that the wall furthest away from my bed, half-hidden by the wardrobe, is perhaps the best because it is covered in mirrors.

We’ve already passed through one of the four beautiful seasons, and I wasn’t aware that I had wasted the first month of spring until I noticed my cat running around the garden, ignoring my constant clicking to come for a cuddle.

She operates as the perfect barometer, changing her behaviour throughout the seasons.

She begins with the lazy, lobotomised laid-out-on-the-sofa-style approach to life, sprawled next to me as I hang my up stocking, waiting for Christmas and the cold, crisp, crystal winter months ahead.

She was there for me on my birthday in January, snuggled up next to my presents, and even on February 14 – as I sat at home with a ready meal for one – polishing off the left-over salmon.

But since the clocks went back her tail has perked up and she has given me the proverbial ‘two-fingers up’, as she scuppers on through the cat flap and out into the wilderness, leaving me to keep calm and carry on against the coronavirus in solitude.

She’s got the whole street to play with.

No more dancing, prancing, hiding around trees, cautious that a car could come speeding around the corner any minute - or worse, a toddler. Or even worse, a dog.

Nope. They like the rest of us are cooped up inside for the foreseeable future, longing to be as free as the tabby who can come and go as she pleases.

The warmer months are also when our friendship bids a temporary farewell.

Like all cats (not known for their loyalty) she has no doubt found a feline friend who will offer better hunting attributes than myself throughout the summer period.

Her lascivious senses will have been heightened and I’ve already seen her eyeing up the Burmese that is owned by an elderly lady three doors down.

From now on she sees me only as a source for food. Not to eat, but as her own personal chef, who she enjoys waking up at 5.30 am, meowing aimlessly until I finally give in and head on downstairs to fill up her wet food and replenish the dry stock.

And do I get a thank you? Oh no, even better. She stares at the food, and tip-toes over to gives it a sniff to see what it is – even though we’ve fed her the same whiskers brand for the last five years – before turning her nose up at it and trotting on back to the cat flap.

And some of you might be thinking, well, George, at least she's not sitting on your laptop as you frantically try and work to finish a deadline.

Believe me, when she is rolling around in the dirt outside to cool down from the blistering heat, before traipsing mud into the house and sprawling out onto your freshly ironed clothes, you will be wishing she was offering an ideal excuse for procrastination.

And as I sit here, envying my cat's liberty, wishing she would just stay for a minute so I could vent my frustration without receiving a sarcastic response as most humans do, an article pops up from the Guardian that reads: “Cats can infect each other with coronavirus, Chinese study finds.”

It goes on to say that felines are highly susceptible to Covid-19.

Apparently, a week after a cat’s owner started showing symptoms, the cat also developed breathing difficulties, diarrhoea and vomiting, with subsequent tests showing the animal was infected with coronavirus – see article here -

As a person who has been self-isolating for the last week after showing mild symptoms, never have I opened the front door so quickly, pleading with my Tilly (the cat) to go and be free.

I’ve cleaned up my fair share of cat’s poo, and sick, both in conservative places like the garage and on my bed.

Cats don’t care, they get rid of their waste wherever they so choose. S

Go, I say to her now, go and be free, enjoy your brief summer months and I look forward to sharing the house with you again when you, too, are asked to stay at home.

But please, keep two metres apart.