The tent went back up yesterday evening. The cat, which had been outside for most of the day - a period of time very closely approximating the time the tent was down - came back in, got in every one's way and spent the rest of the evening indulging in a monumental sulk on the dining room table.
This particular piece of furniture doubles as my desk so the notes I took at yesterday's meeting are littered with cat hair. He didn't actually sit on my notes. Instead he sprawled elsewhere but swished his tail across them expressively.
During the course of the night he must have given in. Right now the offspring is wrapped up her sleeping bag on the ground sheet, while the cat is curled up comfortably on the roll mat which he has clearly succeeded in manoeuvring her off as she slept.
Brute.
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