My maternal Grandmother worked as a housekeeper for a book publisher in Surbiton. He was somewhat eccentric and kept, as part of his household, a Lemur that he had brought back from a trip to Madagascar. My grandmother used, when I was little, to tell me tales about how this damned creature used to swing from the light fittings (gas of course) and piss on the guests and visitors. She hated it with a passion.
