Greek cats would murder Scottish cats. Fat and soft, Scots pussies want for nothing as they snore by the fireplace.
Meanwhile, life is raw for their Greek counterparts. Only a spoilt minority are family pets; the rest are hard-as-nails feral street-beasts who fight for food and die in forgotten alleyways. The guy above is having a good day - he's stumbled across a random deposit of sardines near the wharf, but he'll need to eat it quick.
This one is more typical: he looks like he's been in a fight and maybe he hasn't eaten much more than the stinking remains of an abandoned souvlaki for the last few days.
Oddly enough - the story with teenagers is the exact opposite.
The kids round here are breast-fed to the age of 30. Their only worry is what time their next pizza is to be delivered, while Greek parents work themselves into the ground to pay for it.
Glasgow's wiry young teams would tear them apart, limb from fat limb...
...but their cats would kill ours and so the question remains: which country is best?

