I've tried reason, but my cat is pig-ignorant Roo started marching up and down the kitchen counter hurling stuff around and generally having a major hissy fit. "I ain't gonna' have no bacon living here on my manor ..." I think I heard him meowl. I quickly explained that Wilbur was not a policeman but another rescue pet from Cheltenham, just as Roo was. Unlike Roo, however, Wilbur was not rescued from the "hood" after being shot. In fact, he comes from a very comfortable home that just didn't have enough room in the garden for his surprisingly energetic exercise needs. In short, Wilbur is a posh pig. Roo relaxed for a moment. I think he was relieved that no police were arriving as he clearly has illicit stuff stashed away that he doesn't want discovered. He was soon up in arms again, however, when he discovered that Wilbur is an immigrant. Kunekunes are small hairy pigs from New Zealand (the word means "fat and round" in Maori) and Wikipedia told Roo that, "it is not known how they arrived in this country." This news obviously got Roo very upset. Not only was his fiefdom going to be unsettled by a new arrival but it now appeared that the intruder was an illegal alien. Presumably he's just going to arrive and immediately get free food and hugs? Roo was using his one eye to stare at me in an unsettling manner. I agreed that this was the case but told Roo that Wilbur would not have a free ride. He would be on major weed eating duties and would not be living inside the house. But he's just going to waddle in here and become one of the family just like that? How do you know that he hasn't got Ebola? I began to suspect that Roo might have Ukip tendencies and tried to explain that it was very unlikely that Wilbur had Ebola because he was from New Zealand, not West Africa. Well then he's probably got malaria? As a keen fan of I'm a Celebrity Get... Me Out Of Here! Roo had obviously taken on board the worries that Gemma Collins from The Only Way Is Essex had about contracting malaria in Australia. I reassured Roo that there was no malaria in either Australia or New Zealand. Roo stayed silent but I could see he was still fuming. "Just be nice to Wilbur when he arrives; treat others as you'd like to be treated yourself," I pleaded. Roo turned his back on me and walked away. The next morning I awoke to find that "somebody" had hung the Cross of St George out of three windows. I entered the kitchen to find Roo on the phone to an adoption agency in Rochester. It's going to be a tricky week.