IN mid-December my wife and I answered an advertisement for a large tabby cat. The advertisers were a small but totally dedicated rescue group named the Cat Action Trust (CAT), Devon branch, working from a farmhouse out in the wilds near Buckfastleigh. At that time CAT was unknown to us. All that was about to change.

The large tabby was not right for us but — as you do — we fell in love with a very beautiful and even larger black tom named Sweep.

A tacit agreement was reached but first our home had to be checked for suitability. This was done by a good looking young man called Heathcliff — yes, really! Having passed the test, Sweep was delivered to us on Wednesday, December 19, welcomed into our home and re-christened Rupert.

All went well until the early hours of the following morning when Rupert escaped. How, I am still not quite sure, but, alright, I'll take the blame. Rupert was now on the loose in unfamiliar territory.

The next few days were a blur of activity — streets and Simmons Park were searched, passers by spoken to, notices placed in shops and the post office and of course, an annoucement placed in the Okehampton Times.

Tired and dispirited, we sat by the telephone. It rang twice — both young men with a poor command of English wanting to sell me computer software. I wished them the compliments of the season (Oh yeah!).

And then, even worse, a call from Jane Pascoe, the head girl of CAT at Buckfastleigh, inquiring if Rupert had settled in. Oh dear, I had to tell her. After a short intake of breath, Jane was very understanding and came out with a list of instructions and suggestions on how to find Rupert and, despite my protestations that most of these things had already been done, insisted that she should drive up from Buckfastleigh to join in the search.

Jane arrived soon after lunch on Sunday and spent the afternoon searching for Rupert while emitting strange sounds known only to cat people — and cats. She continued until light failed and promised to return on the following day. Return she did on Christmas Eve together with another volunteer and an armful of printed posters and leaflets which they distributed around Okehampton.

Despite the foul weather, they continued until late in the afternoon when it seemed there was nothing more we could do but wait.

By now we were resigned to a Christmas without Rupert, worrying about him out there in the cold and the rain. Until — wait for it — late on Christmas Eve there came a knock on the door. At first I thought I was dreaming. I thought it was Christmas! For there, lo and behold, on the threshold stood an Angel. She was tall and slim and fair and she had Rupert clutched in her slender arms. She had found a leaflet thrust through her letter box and a large back cat waiting by her gate.

Without any hesitation, she scooped him up and carried him the 200 yards to our door. Like I said, an Angel.

But we are ever mindful of the fact that Rupert's return to us was almost entirely due to the determination and perseverance of Jane Pascoe and Cat Action Trust. We are deeply grateful.

And verily there was much rejoicing and raising of glasses over Christmas in our home. As for Rupert, he is lying by the fire with a contented smile on his face and so completely stuffed with turkey and sausagemeat he is scarcely able to move.

Richard G Williamson

Blatchfords Court

Okehampton