Valuable lesson after my cat caused my fall

Hey kids, don’t do this at home. I just fell down the stairs. I blame it on the cat. Ben is black and has taken to sleeping on the first step at night.

No wonder I trod on him in a sleepy stupor as I staggered out of bed in search of essential early morning tea.

I remember thinking “Flippin’ heck” and then ending up in a heap at the bottom, wondering just how I got there.

The commotion made Mrs Nurden dart out of the bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Yes,” I said, automatically, but not really having had any time to assess the injuries.

There had been some collateral damage on the way down as I had grabbed a picture to slow my rate of descent but it had joined me in my plunge of doom to the ground floor of Cobweb Castle.

“I thought you’d broken your hip,” said Mrs Nurden, as she stretched out a helping hand of support.

It’s at times like these when you count your blessings. It could have been much more serious.

In the end, I escaped with a bruised hand and a bent-back ear.

There was a time in my youth when I had fancied my chances as a film stuntman, crashing through saloon bar doors, jumping out of a plane or tumbling down a stairway. I have now revised that death wish. I may also put in a call to the NHS Falls Unit. This gives advice on how not to fall, usually after you have fallen.

It will tell you to do away with dodgy carpets and electrical wires, tie your shoe laces and make like a hedgehog next time you trip.

What it won’t give you, is a hi-vis jacket for your cat.