My mum took this photo in a village in Oxfordshire. It's sweet and everything, but I have to admit that my initial reaction was, "What about the poor cats?!!" and to wonder if the village had a kind of Logan's Run attitude to feline life: youth is sacred, but once you've reached full maturity, who cares if you're run over, since you're worthless anyway? Or maybe I'm reading a little too much into it....