Woken up abruptly by a thud and then a prolonged howl.
Turns out the Astronomical Devotions Group have just got in from their shooting-star watching. Overcome by the beauties of nature, the pathos of dying stars and - I suspect - the bottle of rum they took to keep out the cold, Grimzey tripped over Grendel, the community cat.
That's some wound Grimzey has now. You wouldn't think a cat could put lacerations that long in. Killed the spiritual moment dead, it did. Oh well, so much for the romance of Psalm 8. Out of the mouths of cats and ducklings