I would like to apologise to my neighbours. I've moved into a rather nice neighbourhood. Now you would have thought that single fact would drive down property prices.

But no, it seems not even I can stop the surge in house prices.

However, perhaps my cat can.

His name is Bruce. Sounds cuddly enough.

We don't exactly have a wildlife haven on our doorstep.

But we do have voles, shrews, badgers, rabbits, ducks and foxes enjoying the tranquillity.

Unfortunately their numbers are in severe decline since Bruce went on the prowl.

It's nice to see the wildlife in your back garden, playing and enjoying the sunshine as nature intended.

What I don't need is a close-up of their carcasses being dragged through the catflap at 2am.

Bruce is not the smallest of cats and just about gets out through the cat flap, so how on earth he manages to squeeze what looks like half a deer through a nine-inch square hole is anyone's guess.

I didn't fancy waking up to a taxidermist's dream, so I sectioned off the house at night.

Anything furry and dead now stays in one room until the morning.

The problem is you must remember to wear slippers at all times.

The other night I recognised that familiar "I've got something here that you want to see" meow and made a mental note that I would have a visitor to dispose of in the morning.

However, when I got up I couldn't find a sign of the deceased. Anyone wanting to put a chalk line around it would have been severely disappointed.

Apart from the odd strand, he had managed to devour the poor animal.

From this you could deduce that we are not feeding him.

But as I said, although he may be athletic, he is also slightly on the chunky side.

Indeed, he eats better than I do.

It's a family joke that while he scoffs fresh chicken and fish, I get by on leftover scraps and soups.

The vet tells me he's got a heart condition and his blood needs thinning.

But tell that to the rodents.

He's also been rifling through neighbouring dustbins for nosh. The vet told me the sorry truth when he treated him for a cut mouth and said it was probably caused by a discarded tin.

My way of getting to know the neighbours was to spend a whole day walking round the estate trying to find him. He was probably locked in someone's larder for the day.

As I said, I would like to apologise to my neighbours...