Sir, – Wednesday evening was a wet and cold one outside as I sat and read The Irish Times. I came to Michael Harding's short story about his cat and I laughed out loud (Life, December 13th).
Mary was in another room and put her head around the corner to see what was wrong with me. I suggested she sit for a minute and I read Michael’s story to her. When it came to the part about the cat leaving the house to relieve himself I thought she was going to crack up.
On a wet and gloomy Irish winter’s evening Michael Harding’s writings are a wonderful tonic. – Yours, etc,
TED DWYER,
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Blackrock, Cork.