Fat-BOBBY. The saga continues.

There is this cat.

We call her Fat Bobby. Her face is the shape of a pie. Her body like a dense tree trunk slumped in the moss. Her aim. To eat all of my cat food.

This cat is torturing my cats. It comes in, stealth Nina style, eats the food, then leaves. I have come to understand that it must know it's way around my house to get out so quickly. Heaven knows how this fat beast fits through my cat flap.

Last night after moving the food to the front room, I found her, head in the bag of food still in the kitchen. I moved it upstairs, there again she found it. 5am, ozzy growling all industrial machine-like. Scared me. I chased her down the stairs.

I may have to set a trap. A fat Bobby food trap. Or poster the streets. War is upon me and I will not back down to this greedy monster.

Tonight.

I lock the Cat flap.