Dafydd & Pushkin

          It was fast asleep on the front axle, under the 4x4. Dafydd had noticed some kind of noise when he left the fair, 30 miles earlier, but it was only when he arrived back home that he found the cat.

It was black or dirty. He had never seen it before.

He tried to dislodge it, lit one of his ever present cigarettes and went in the dilapidated building, resigned, ignoring the stowaway fur ball.

After a long yawn, the cat stretched and followed Dafydd inside.

The hermit adopted the cat, the cat tamed the bear and it became Pushkin.

It was not uncommon to see Dafydd, Pushkin nestled around his neck.

Every time the cat came to settle there, his companion always told him, in a gruff but cheerful tone: “But what are you doing Pushkin?”

Of course, one day Pushkin went... perhaps warming up other shoulders ... maybe not.

Ever since, Dafydd the taciturn has got into the habit, wherever he is, of checking under his car, never when he's leaving, but always when he arrives.