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Christmas Eve, 1970.
I last saw the real Father Christmas when I was six years old. It was very late at night on Christmas Eve, or possibly very early on Christmas morning. I was asleep in the bunk bed that I shared with my little brother in our house in Sussex Street, Pimlico, London. Getting to sleep had…
What I’m continuing to learn about cats
One of the unexpected pleasures of leading Cats Protection has been discovering just how much there is still to learn. People sometimes assume that when someone becomes the Chief Executive of a charity, they somehow become an expert overnight in whatever that organisation exists to do. The reality is rather different. I arrived with many…
