I don’t blame the cat. Truly I don’t. But when I glanced over to my desk at the exact moment her hind leg brushed my Nikon 24-70 f2.8, she adopted several new names. For a moment my lens was a parody of another cat. The one owned by a certain Mr Schrödinger. It was at the same time both falling and not falling off my desk. Physics eventually made its final fateful decision and gravity took over. A fraction of a second later the 24-70 landed with a sickening thump on our laminate floor, where it bounced once and came to rest.