Meanwhile, the saga continues about Pete Doherty's ability or otherwise to look after his cats. And it continues because, dammit, we continue to cover it.
Marina has, of course, been following this case keenly, from its inception through to all the latest developments.
Well, shocking news developed this week. First Doherty was photographed taking the cat to a vet. What had Digger the cokehead taken NOW? Then Paris Hilton's rival for the title of pet owner of the year turned was running late (no, really) this week for a gig in Brixton (are they ever anywhere else?) because, someone announced ominously, that the 'singer' was "en route" but his "kittens had gone crazy." Well, we knew that this was no euphemism but a sad comment on the state of those damaged pets. Oh God, what next?
Well, "next" turned out to be Doherty arriving and announcing to the delusional fans: "Sorry I'm late. But considering I've had to bury one of my cats at the roadside I've done pretty well to be here." WHAAAAAAT?! Oh, cruel fate - we assumed the state of Amy Winehouse's skin this week would have been deemed enough of a warning to the kids about the evils of drugs. But no, drugs are a pernicious temptation, so perhaps a stronger sign was needed and this would inevitably come in the form of the sacrifice of one of the figureheads of the current sense of hedonism that is
destroying our youth.
Doherty's spokesperson later denied the veracity of Doherty's claim and a minder had been seen with a pet carrier at the event. But that is no proof. Were there any animals in the carrier? And were all the animals who were in the carrier at the beginning of the trip there at the end?
So far, no reliable witnesses have stepped forward. But really, what the FUCK do those RSPCA people do all day? Case! On! Get! Now!
