The cloud cover didn't roll in until evening and I went to bed without the rains starting. However, I awoke at fourish in the early morning to the trampling return of Murray, who was as wet as an unsqueezed sponge, providing proof that the rains has manifested. He, of course, wanted to curl up with his warm and dry hoomin.
The felines are in a snit, Cleo, mostly, about the doors being shut and having to request to go in or out. Along with the rain. Murray has already pried open the back door in the midst of a need to do a midnight foray in the back garden. He can do that if the door is not securely latched; thumbs, y'know. Of course, having got out, he could not get back in. He fairly shot through the balcony door when I opened it first thing in the morning and subsequently disappeared for some hours. I suspect he slunk away upstairs to snooze where it was guaranteed warm. As I button up for the coming bad weather, I'll have to make a point of checking in to their 'under the bench' hideout to make sure that it is 'adequate'.