Mother of Fran

Weezer, Fran's mother, popped in to see us today, meowing mournfully as she trotted down the driveway which, today, was covered in melting snow. I don't expect she'd recognise Fran now, if they met in the garden one afternoon. To me, and it may be my imagination playing tricks, they'll always be a striking similarity between them and, because of that, there'll always be a can of pilchards at the ready.