David's version of the story:
I'm the one who reads the paper in the morning, and one day I saw this article. Since we'd been talking for some time about getting a cat, I told Anna about it - but she didn't seem that interested, even though she was the one who most wanted a cat. That night, in bed, I reminded her about the article. And now she wanted to see it. So I went downstairs, looked around, came back up and asked her "Where's the newspaper?". "In the trash" she answered. So I went downstairs, looked around, came back upstairs and asked her "Where's the trash"? She said, "Out on the street - today's Wednesday, tomorrow's trash collection day!". OK. I put my overcoat on over my pyjamas, went out into the driving rain in the middle of the night and started rummaging through our trash can. It goes without saying, my sweetheart had put the paper pretty deep down, but I found it, checked it was Wednesday's, brought it to the bedroom and got back into bed. But I couldn't find the cat article... and then I noticed, this was LAST Wednesday's paper. Yes, when Anna puts a week's supply of newspapers into the trash, the newest one is at the bottom. So, I went back downstairs, put on my overcoat over my pyjamas again and after 20 minutes of hanging head down and waist deep in the trash can, I actually succeeeded in finding the right newspaper. Anna read it and agreed we should call the animal shelter and ask about the cat, which is just as well because otherwise I'd have strangled her.