Whenever I hear it I think of you wedged in the cat flap, half in the kitchen, half out.
We’d never owned a cat. Your father had mumbled something about maybe getting a new door but we’d never done anything about it.
You were only just crawling and before the cat flap incident you’d seem quite happy to stay in the sitting room where it was warmer and the floor was nice, soft carpet.
Needless to say a new door was installed sharpish and the sound of bells has never seemed quite the same .