It started with the 6 o'clock meow.

Biscuit has never once been late for dinner. I, on the other hand, was late constantly. Delayed trains. Meetings that ran over. And every evening the same picture on the doormat: one unimpressed cat, sitting bolt upright, tail wrapped round her feet, waiting.

So I did what everyone does. I bought an automatic feeder. It turned up in a plain brown box — no brand name on it, no address, nobody to ask if I had a question. Grey plastic, a blinking blue light, the look of something borrowed from an office. I tried a second one and got the same thing in a different shape. Both of them lived behind the kettle, out of sight, because honestly they were ugly.

Kitty Korners exists because that seemed fixable. One feeder, chosen and tested properly, that feeds on time, shows you every mealtime, and looks like something you picked for your kitchen rather than something you hide from guests.

Every decision here passes one test first: would Biscuit actually use it, and would I actually leave it out? If either answer is no, it's binned.

— Helen & Biscuit, a small flat with a big cat