A Friend Called Alfie

My confused state lasted all week, I was so upset. George would go out for long periods of time every single day and still refused to tell me where he was going. I did trust him – sort of anyway, but I worried. What if someone was taking advantage of him? What if he was putting himself in danger? I just didn’t know what to do.

Polly was sitting with Pickles on her lap when I appeared from my morning constitutional, my best thinking time normally, but not today. Claire was pouring coffee for them both. Pickles was enjoying having his ears rubbed – that dog was seriously pampered, but he was so sweet and had grown on me at an alarming rate. When he first arrived, I worried that I would have to try hard to like him, what with him being a dog and all, but actually I took to him very quickly and he now felt like part of my family.

‘I saw Marcus this morning and he said that Harold has perked right up,’ Polly said.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, apparently an old friend has been to see him and it’s cheered him up no end. Marcus said he’s like a different man at the moment, although he still complains about everything, he is happier than usual and hasn’t accused anyone of trying to kill him in days.’

‘Do you think it’s a woman?’ Claire asked.

‘Oh goodness, with his heart problem, I sincerely hope not,’ Polly laughed. ‘Marcus didn’t say who it was, just that his old friend is visiting every day, and somehow before official visiting time. He wondered if it was someone from that group he goes to, you know the old people’s group.’

‘The Senior Centre? As long as he’s happy it doesn’t matter,’ Claire said. ‘You know I’ve started talking to more people on his ward. It’s so sad, some of the old people in hospital never get visitors.’

‘That’s so sad,’ Polly said. ‘If I get old I hope my children visit me.’

‘Polly, that’s not something to be thinking about now. Right, I said I’d bake Harold a cake to share around the ward today, so I better get started.’

‘But, Claire, you don’t bake.’

‘I know, but it’s just a sponge cake, how hard can that be?’

Polly shook her head but then she had to leave to go to work.

Turns out it’s harder than Claire thought. Firstly she managed to get flour all over the floor, and Pickles, who was hoping to get some stray food, turned white and had to be brushed off. Then she got eggshell in the eggs, and it took ages to pick it out. When it finally came out of the oven it looked terrible, all sunken and not anything like a cake should look. The kitchen looked like a bombsite. Luckily I’d had the foresight to watch from a safe distance.

‘Right, I’m going to buy a cake,’ Claire declared and went out, leaving Pickles and me alone. There were a lot of places I wanted to go to, the recreation ground, next door to see Hana and question her about George, and part of me wanted to go to Tiger’s old house to see if I could catch a glimpse of the new cat, but I couldn’t go anywhere, not for a while anyway.

‘Garden?’ I asked Pickles. It was pretty cold but at least it wasn’t raining and I needed some fresh air.

‘Yes, please.’ I went through the cat flap and waited. After a few seconds a tiny head appeared. Pickles’ head. But his body didn’t follow.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked. ‘Come out, hurry up.’

‘I can’t seem to move,’ he said, looking a little stricken.

‘What do you mean you can’t move?’ I asked.

‘I seem to be stuck,’ he said, as he tried to wriggle. Oh, no, this was not what I needed. Pickles had finally done it, he’d become too big for the cat flap. What on earth was I supposed to do now?

I started circling around, trying to think.

‘What are you doing?’ Pickles asked.

‘Thinking,’ I replied. There was no way I could pull him from the front, I was a cat after all. And he was blocking the only way for me to get inside the house, so I was stuck outside. I sat down and started licking my paws.

‘What are you doing?’ Pickles asked again.

‘Thinking,’ I replied. I watched him try to heave himself out but he wasn’t going anywhere as his paws swung up and down in the air. He’d be exhausted in no time at this rate.

‘Have you finished thinking yet?’ he asked.

‘The thing is, Pickles, we are in a bit of a predicament,’ I said.

‘What’s that?’

‘You’re stuck in a cat flap. You remember not long ago you were small but now you’ve grown. You’re actually bigger than George, so you can’t use our cat flap anymore.’

‘OK, but how do I get out?’ He looked panicked as his face scrunched up even more than normal.

‘I’m afraid there’s only one way, we have to wait for Claire to come back from the shops.’

‘But how long will she be? This isn’t comfortable, or even fun anymore.’

‘She won’t be long, but, Pickles, if you stop wriggling, and panicking then you’ll be more comfortable,’ I suggested. He did.

‘Can we play a game while we wait?’ he asked.

‘Sure what do you want to play?’

‘We could play I spy.’

He had learnt about I spy from the children, but couldn’t really grasp the alphabet. Dogs.

‘You go first,’ I suggested.

‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with bird.’

‘Bird,’ I guessed.

‘You are so good at this. Your turn, Alfie.’

I was beginning to despair when I heard Claire arrive home. I thought about waiting for her by the front doorstep but then I was worried that if I left him alone, Pickles would panic even more and hurt himself.

‘Oh my goodness,’ I heard Claire shout, and of course we both knew that we’d been saved. Claire must have seen Pickles’ back end in the cat flap. What a sight to come home to.

‘Right,’ I heard her say. ‘Pickles, stay still, I am going to gently pull you backwards.’ I heard a little bit of huffing from Claire, before Pickles’ face began to disappear backwards. Once he was freed I quickly went through the cat flap to join him.

‘Well this is a bit of a pickle, Pickles.’ Claire laughed at her own joke. ‘You are going to have to stay inside now until one of us is here to let you out. And, Alfie, you and George will have to bear that in mind, and not rush out, because, Alfie, he might follow you and get stuck again.’

‘Meow.’ It wasn’t ideal. This puppy had curtailed my freedom quite a lot so far and although I enjoyed his company, I valued my freedom. I wasn’t sure I was happy not to be able to go outside.

‘Or we could get a dog door, which is just like a bigger cat flap.’ Her brows knotted as if she was thinking. ‘Or you could do what Polly said and lose some weight, Pickles,’ she finished, before she went to unpack her shopping.

‘What are we going to do?’ Pickles asked me wide-eyed.

‘I am going to have some lunch,’ I replied. ‘And if you want your lunch too, let’s hope Claire decides to go for the bigger door option.’