That title got you? Well, I have just had a terrible row with my housemate, John, who is not a cat person, though he lets the cats sit on him when he watches TV, which is just about every minute he is in the house. This morning at dawn I was woken up by terrible cat screams outside, and when I went down I found the outdoor cat, Cisco, facing down a white-faced tabby I have never seen before. When they saw me they both ran off, but John, whose room is on the ground floor, was awake and angry. He blamed it on me, because I caught and neutered Cisco a month or two back, and now, John says, 'he is no longer a cat and cannot defend his territory'! It is made worse by the fact that last night I caught another feral, who is now in the laundry room waiting for vet Haris to come and collect him for neutering this morning. Why do men feel that way? Do they really take it so personally?