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In which the cat, finally, is not going to return
The phone rang on Saturday morning, and The Mother was on the end. “I’ve got some bad news,” she said.
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Returned
Or, the cat came back
Back in July, my mother lost The Cat, accidentally releasing him on the way to the vet’s. She spent hours putting up posters in that part of town, searching round the neighbourhood, answering calls from people who thought they had seen him, but to nothing. After a month or so, the calls dried up, and we assumed he wasn’t coming back.
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