Two years ago today we said our goodbyes to Zoombini, the most remarkable cat I’ve ever known. She was a deeply intelligent creature with a need for human contact which was always charming and sometimes almost eerie. When we sat down for breakfast every morning, for example, she would come from wherever she had been in the house and stand looking up at us in wide-eyed astonishment. In the end we caved in and set up a high stool between us on which she would sit or stand alertly watching proceedings. It was as if she felt she had a right to be in on all our deliberations, including the cryptic crossword we do most mornings.

When she died we had a proper family wake for her in the garden, complete with drinks and stories about her adventures. We miss her still.

Her sister lives on and is now 19 pushing 20, and in reasonably good shape. But she’s a completely different presence in the house.