~ Sir Walter Scott ~
Friday, February 17th ~ Evening
"That's quite alright, Georgette. It's not our cat, but I'll see what I can do with him."
Arthur took the cat from Georgette yet again and went to the back door of the pub. He'd put him out several times already and he hadn't a clue how the blasted animal was getting back in each time.
"Molly would have a hissy if she knew you'd been in her kitchen, young man," Arthur advised the feline right before he placed him outside the back door. "Go find some young lady cat for the evening and you'll be a lot happier, I guarantee it."