I regret nothing more in life than adopting this snow leopard 

IT seemed like a good idea. The right thing to do. Giving something back. But there is nothing I regret more in this world than my decision to adopt a snow leopard.

I couldn’t have known how challenging it would be. How damaged this poor animal already was. What a drain it would become on my energy and finances.

£3 a month? That’s just the start. Before I’d had even two months to enjoy the benevolent glow of that direct debit, I was getting emails warning me about how badly Steven – my leopard – was managing.

He’d been caught in a poacher’s snare. He’d been spotted in Chinese territory. Climate change-associated loss of habitat had left him hungry.

I’d thought he seemed proud, independent, a noble animal who just needed a helping hand. But instead I’d found myself fully responsible for a spotty, scruffy freeloader unwilling or unable to help himself.

Weighed down by worry, unable to concentrate at work for fear Steven had once again proved too hapless to bring down a Siberian ibex, I upped my direct debit, and again. But his problems only worsened.

It was when I found myself lobbying the Nepalese government at 3am on a Tuesday that I realised it had gone too far. This snow leopard was ruining my life.

I cancelled my direct debit. I tore up the picture of Steven on the fridge. I gave his cuddly toy replica to a charity shop. I closed my heart to his never-ending needs.

Now I sponsor an otter, Lynne, in a nearby sanctuary instead. She’s not as exotic or exciting, but she’s reliable and all she wants is regular fish.

Sorry, Steven. But you needed more from me than I could give.

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Fergie sprog to marry some spiv

ONE of Fergie’s kids, the one with the slightly vacant expression, is marrying a spiv, apparently.

The kid is maybe called Hermione or Jocasta and the wedding will be on the telly and cost two million quid.

She will be given away by her idiot dad who mostly plays golf and hangs out with some very dodgy geezers.

Experts said her mum, Fergie Ferguson, the ginger one who got her toe sucked by some American spiv, will be all over this like a fucking rash.

It is understood the groom is called either Barry or Mick. He has an expensive complexion and runs a pub.

So there you go.