Triple black

Another mini streetmog hiatus comes to a close. I've been pretty remiss in both stopping to capture mogs on the plod and in the blogging itself. Life's been too busy and it's simply too hot...but I'm not complaining, not after the run of crap weather we'd had here in Blighty. It's positively steaming here right now at 31.c, definitely too hot for our furry feline friends who I imagine will be under shady bushes or indoors 'pon cool floors. Anyway, the relatively unimportant business (let's be honest here) of mog blogging has taken a back seat, until today. Here are three black cats, and that's your lot:

Streetmog number: 217
Streetmog name: Murray
Actual name:
Favourite Location: Driveway
Preferred stroke: Bonce tickle
Character: Chillaxed
Other: Okay, he doesn't remotely resemble the Scottish one but I think it would be a big ask to find a cat who does. So, as the first streetmog since Andy Murray's Wimbledon victory last Sunday, this black chap shall get the honours of being named after the new champion. As for the cat and its antics, it just sat there and came to say hello when I approached. I've seen him before and he's always being petted by passers-by. He's a nice cat.

Advantage Morrisons.

Streetmog number: 218
Streetmog name: Bartoli
Actual name:
Favourite Location: Centre pavement (centre court?)
Preferred stroke:
Character: Scaredy-cat
Other: It would be remiss of me to name one mog after the male champion and overlook the female winner. I hadn't forgotten Virginia Wade, either, so don't start. Bartoli was a slight tease, beckoning me closer with an innocent gaze and gait, but then trotting off when I got close. I didn't try too hard - too hot, etc. etc. etc.

Streetmog number: 219
Streetmog name: Tilly
Actual name:
Favourite Location: Wall and pillar
Preferred stroke: All of it
Character: Loving drooler
Other: Tilly (belatedly named on request, after a blog follower's cat) was the most adorable concrete-pummeling pussy. She couldn't keep still and, together with her pacing, pawing, head butting and weaving, she dribbled like a babba. She was enjoying the warm afternoon sun and was, clearly, partial to some petting. A lovely thing, Tilly was.