Change is on the cold north wind that has seemingly come to stay in this part of the Great British nation for which my breed is so named, and I find myself at the heart of it, as ever watchful over bae.

I have become victimised by it. That laser dot of the skies.

Where art thou bae? 
This is what I wonder as I wake and the cruel chill of the day’s emptiness clutches at my whiskers.