It wasn't a big deal, he was an obedient little thing, and though our dog (Wilson - a cattle dog) was a little put out by having a visitor in his domain, Jack spent the night on the back porch. The next day we had a friend at the council look up 'Jack's' registration number and contact his owner, who was delighted to find her lost puppy.
Funny enough the name we'd come to call him 'Jack', was his real name (original hey!?). So a happy ending for all involved.
TONIGHT...... Dad and I are sitting watching Layton play in the Aussie Open and I hear a 'meow'

We are not cat people! Dad's hated cats since he was a kid, and that's sort of rubbed off on all of us. I've never really had time for cats at all, if it hadn't been such a tiny kitten I would have roused on the thing and kicked it off my front porch (not literally kicked, before any of you call the RSPCA).
Anyhow, I brought the little thing in, gave it some milk, and mum cracked open a tin of sardines, he/she/it is now trapped under a washing basket in the lounge room, we decided putting it in a cardboard box and taping it shut was a little cruel, so we used the washing basket and put a couple of pavers on top to stop any escape tricks.

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